Hourglass
by TheSoggyBug
Summary: 3rd story to Lo and Behold. All is well in District 12, but when an unexpected leader rises from the ashes, determined to have a pregnant Katniss all to himself, chaos erupts. But the lines have been crossed, and not much more is going to be tolerated.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys! I know it hasn't been that long, but I couldn't wait. So welcome to my new friends and welcome back to those of you who I know. But to those of you who I don't, here is a little recap that was incredibly hard to write since so much has been going on._

_Recap:_

_Lo and Behold was after Catching Fire, and Peeta was obviously not captured. During that first story, Gale was killed and Cinna & the prep team were charged with being the Capitol spies. Now, in Gravity, Snow was defeated and Kat & Peeta were able to go home, and they got married two weeks before the beginning of this story. Previously they had thought that they couldn't have children, so that remains a mystery for now. Annie and Finnick also play a bigger part of the story with their baby son Jace. Shortly before "Gravity" ended, strange packages had made themselves known within District 12, sent by the mysterious "Agency". And, um…let's see… Oh yeah. The list of OC's introduced in the last two stories:_

_**Ivy Sawyer**__: Little redheaded girl Katniss and Peeta met in the town square, and became fond of because she helped them hold together by being the missing link, as Peeta and Katniss may not be able to have children themselves. _

_**Caroline Sawyer**__: Ivy's single mother, tired and working hard. _

_**Aden Sawyer: **__Boy about Prim's age that Katniss met in District 13, as he was selling baby clothes. He died of a heart condition not a week after Kat met him, and became known as the mysterious brown-haired boy._

_**Lucia Bennet: **__Caroline's grandmother, Ivy's great-grandmother. Nice old lady who loves to feed anyone who steps foot in her house. About the age of the Easter Island heads._

_**Mr. Webb:**__ The local tailor. As Caroline's boss, he's nice enough, but has the tendency to interrupt and be a little over-enthusiastic about his work._

_**Benj Erik**__: One of the only people in District 12 to raise cows. His foot got crushed and he was sent to the hospital under the care of Primrose. When he healed enough to be released, he got a job at the bakery with Peeta. He's from District 1, gorgeous, highly flirtatious and somewhat reckless._

_**Anna-Mae Rull: **__The other baker employed at Peeta's bakery. A timid, small girl of 22 from District 11. She was the baker's daughter there until her parents and her fiancée died in the bombing. From D13 she moved to D12 to get a job, and remains as shy and quiet as ever. _

_I hope that was pretty explanatory, but remember, if you have any questions at all, send it in your review. I don't bite. Much. Enjoy this first chapter, and hope to see you in the many to come!_

_This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Adnan for making sure I don't screw this story up. Bwahaha._

**oOo**

"This must be a record." Peeta sighed, shaking his head at my work of art.

It really wasn't supposed to be a work of art. It was our early lunch, but as always, it was less than adequate.

Putting my hands on my hips, I scowled at him. "You're going to eat it and you're going to like it."

Peeta shook his head again.

According to _him_, pancakes were not meant to be scrambled, but it seemed perfectly fine and edible to me. But of course, he took the spatula from me and began on a fresh batch.

"Picky…" I scoffed, sitting at the table.

It was a beautiful May morning on the 28th, warm but not hot, sunny but not blinding. Nightmares had woke me up an hour ago, thrashing around to the images of Primrose getting mauled by mutts. It sent me crying into Peeta's chest for a good fifteen minutes before he invited my little sister over to reassure me she was not eaten. So Prim was sitting next to me at the table, looking awkwardly amused at my hopeless cooking skills.

She giggled at my upset scowl. "He has a point, Katniss."

I scowled even more.

Today was a normal Tuesday. Prim and Mother had to go to work at the hospital, as usual. Annie and Finnick were out in town running errands with Jace, and Caroline doesn't work today so she's supposed to bring Ivy over near lunchtime. Secretly, I looked forwards seeing the sweet little girl today. Ivy, with her fiery red hair and stubborn toddler demeanor, she filled in the missing space in my heart. I loved her as if she was my own.

My own… Automatically, at that thought, I put my hand down to my stomach and frowned. Several thoughts filled my head, but none felt the importance to surface. With luck, I _would_ have one of my own, but I wasn't sure, and neither was Peeta. There was some doubt, but the thought of not being able to have children made me upset, so I pushed that particular theory away.

Primrose noticed. She blinked her pretty blue eyes curiously at me, but when I shook my head, she shrugged and didn't say anything.

When breakfast was over, Peeta and I said goodbye to Prim and she left with our mother into town for work.

"I'll get the dishes." Peeta's eyes were twinkling as he offered to take up the chore, but I took the opportunity to be alone with him. It had been over a week since our "honeymoon" had ended, and there was plenty of things to do since we'd been in our own little world for eight days. Practically all of every day since the 20th, we were with someone at all times, whether it was with Mother and Prim helping them rearrange the flowerbeds in their front yard, or with Finnick or Annie as they made little preparations to stay the extra two weeks they'd planned. But most of the time was spent with Ivy. Once she caught us, it took a good three hours to shake her and Caroline, her mother, off. Not to mention the fact that Peeta and I still had to make time for our jobs of hunting and baking.

Today was a do-nothing day.

"Have you heard from District 13 lately?" I asked Peeta while wiping a piece of fine white china. District 13 was our primary source of news, and strange things have been going on lately.

Peeta wiped a bit of soap off his chin with his shoulder and frowned. "Not since Saturday. But yesterday when I came late to the bakery, Benj had some odd news."

There was no doubt he did. Benjamin Erik, being from District 1, was incredibly handsome, dangerously flirtatious, and somewhat reckless. Despite being an excellent baker, he gets in trouble with Peeta about every other day. So this "odd news" he came up with didn't surprise me until I heard it.

"See," Peeta was frowning, a deep crease appearing between his eyebrows, and he paused the dishes. "He said a package had came. Appeared on our doorstep and was apparently there before opening. Guess who sent it?"

I groaned. This was getting out of hand. I knew who it was from—or at least, who it claimed to be from. No one knew who the Agency was, but they'd been dropping off packages all around Panem. On poor people's doorstops appeared food and cloth; behind shops appeared materials and items, supporting them through hard times. In fact, this "Agency" was the only thing keeping most stores open right now. As far as I had been concerned, Peeta's bakery wasn't struggling, but yet there it was.

Peeta rubbed his forehead. "It's nice having a new supply of flour and yeast, but it's overly suspicious and most definitely dangerous."

Creasing my brows as well, I nodded. "Mayor Channe should do something about it. For all we know, the food items could have been poisoned."

"No one in their right mind would ever turn down food, you know that."

I did. That's what's worrying me. "The Agency" had an advantage over us, and a very powerful one. The worst part was that it seemed harmless. When people started trusting mysterious, unmarked boxes on their doorsteps, they would get into the habit of never even wondering before opening them. They could easily be bombs or something.

It was like Peeta read my mind. He sighed and continued scrubbing stubborn food off of a plate. "No one would bomb us, Katniss. All the districts are working together to survive, it's pointless to bomb one another."

I nodded, still cynical.

The subject was changed soon after I dropped it.

"I was wanting to go into town today," Peeta said, drying his hands on a towel. "We're out of grain. And we can stop by the Justice Building on the way to see if there's anything new from District 13."

That in itself was tempting, just to see the news. I gave in and tried to smile at him. "Alright."

He grinned widely at me, displaying his brilliant white teeth and twinkling blue eyes. I loved his crooked smile and the way he ruffled my hair even though he knew I was annoyed by it.

"It's the twenty-eighth today, isn't it?" From behind, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his lips on my neck, exposed from a white nightdress.

I nodded, leaning my head back on his shoulder. "I know what you're thinking."

On the thirtieth (give or take a day) we'd figure out whether or not I was pregnant. I've never been off by more than a day, but most of the time I was on time. If June hit and I still hadn't gotten my period, there will definitely be a celebration. But not with anyone except Peeta and I. That would be…weird. Like an "I-skipped-my-period" party, which was a lot less tempting.

Peeta laughed, and I laughed with, even though we were probably laughing for different reasons.

"I'm still worried, though." I admitted to him, wrapping my arms around his own arms around my waist. "Do you think it's too early?"

Pregnancy at 18-years-old was early. It wasn't even a question. But every time I made that argument, Peeta would say that it was perfectly okay since our life spans were a great deal shorter than the average person in, say, District 2.

"Of course not." He just kissed me on the cheek and untangled his arms from around me. "I'm going to go take a shower. Don't burn the house down."

"Wouldn't dream of it." I felt myself smiling after him, exasperated but adoring.

Half an hour later, Peeta came out of the bathroom shaking water from his sandy blond hair. I had finished my shower ten minutes ago, and found it amusing that he showers longer than me as I braided my hair down my back.

"You look nice." He observed, blinking appreciatively at my typical, boring outfit. As always, he was exaggerating my looks.

I just rolled my eyes at him and tried averting my eyes as he dressed behind me. He had this crazy sense that I would be perfectly okay dressing and undressing in front of him now that we were married and he made fun of me every time I _didn't_ look. It was almost like he was trying to make me look at him, as if that would be equivalent of permission for _him_ to look at me. It was all confusing, so I just never looked.

"Are we going to the Justice Building first or should we pick up the grain before?" Peeta grabbed a black shirt from inside the wardrobe and yanked it over his hard chest.

"Either one. You're the one who wanted to go into town in the first place." I finished the braid and shrugged at him.

He winked.

"Have a lovely day, you two." The tiny, wrinkled old lady bid Peeta and I farewell as we walked out of the shop with 2 ten-pound bags of grain in our arms. I kept mine in my left and Peeta kept his in his right we could hold hands, letting them swing back and forth between us with the merry air of District 12.

"To the Justice Building, then?" Peeta veered down an adjacent road towards the town square.

It was beautiful this time of year, all bright and fresh and warm, with people jostling around the shops busily. We took our time walking, and when we got to the Justice Building, Peeta opened the door for me.

The large foyer was somewhat familiar to us then. There was plush carpet and a comfortable atmosphere. The front desk, which was some odd twenty feet to our left, was watched by a middle-aged lady, Mayor Channe's secretary. She peered at us over her spectacles as we approached, and smiled a tired smile.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Mellark," she said kindly.

We had stopped trying to get her to not call us so formally. But being called 'Mrs. Mellark' made me kind of happy.

"Good morning," Peeta said good-naturedly, and his eyes trailed over to the rack of papers on the wall next to us. On the top, painted in semi-crude-looking letters, was "District 13 News". Whatever that has been going on, and D13 knows about, is on those papers, labeled by dates. Out of habit, we drifted over there and pulled the latest newsletter from the rack and went over to go sit down on the chairs in the corner to read, with the sacks of grain on the floor next to us.

At the top, it was saying stuff about the product deterioration in all of the districts. It talked about the death toll on a steady incline due to lack of food (District 11 had poor harvests that year). But in bold letters, on the inside of a box on the bottom of the page, was a short article about The Agency. A "mysterious organization winning the hearts and mouths of hungry district citizens, saving the lives of thousands". An interview with a head official there in District 13 said that, despite suspicion, the Agency was the current savior of Panem's people and everyone should be grateful to these anonymous heroes while it lasts.

Peeta frowned deeply when he read this. "I'm not too sure about this. Do you think…?"

"District 13 is trying to cover something up?" I suggested.

"No, that's not what I'm sensing. More like…" He sighed, flipping the page. "I don't know. M—" Peeta stopped, momentarily stunned by something he read on the other page. I leaned over quickly to see.

I looked at where Peeta was pointing to on the yellowed page, and there, in comical black letters, said, "RISING NUMBER OF MISSING PERSONS BRINGS THERORIES TO TABLE".

**"…Starting May 13****th****, mysterious disappearances have jolted several District 13 authorities awake, but until last night at the monthly council meeting, no one thought twice. 'Disappearances are not unusual,' states head security Bartolomu Wite when asked about the issue. 'When someone leaves the face of this earth, it is usually reported as death automatically. But when you look at the charts of those missing peoples, one **_**has**_** to question things'. **

** "District 13 president Alma Coin was presented by Wite earlier with an interesting theory. Yesterday night they held their council two days early and sat with the head of the criminal department, Hann Anders, to look at the record of each person that has vanished all in the same two-week stretch. Livia Faare was among the six people absent. Faare was from District 2 and had won the 55****th**** Hunger Games. She married 3 years after and had a child, Trace, who—after miraculously winning the 72****nd**** Games—vanished along with his mother.**

** "'This is no coincidence,' Anders said. "And, looking further into the records, found a similar pattern. The two Faare victors had been the first missing from District 2, and then it was Vanessa Plaite from District 4, and after that a victor from 7 and then 8. In numerical order, these people went missing. And they were all previous Hunger Games victors.' When President Coin was presented with this notion, she was astounded, and agreed with Anders.**

** "Are these disappearing victors merely coincidences? Will we see them home safely, or is it a lost cause? If it is not just a twist of fate, then who is behind these kidnappings? As the numbers climb to the higher districts, we advise everyone to be on high alert, just in case this is a mass abduction. To the people of District 11 and 12—especially to our Twelve victors, Katniss and Peeta Mellark—stay safe and aware of everything going on. This might not end as well as we would hope."**

I felt my throat close off with immediate worry as I finished the article. The newsletter was trembling slight in Peeta's hands, I noted, but his face was almost completely expressionless.

"Peeta," For some reason, I felt the need to whisper. "Do you think they're right?"

The muscles in his jaws tightened visibly, and his blue eyes flicked nervously over to me. "I hope not. I really do." One of his hands left the damaged paper to close around mine. "We need to go show your mother. Doesn't she work today?"

I stood up with him, feeling my shoulders still quivering with worry. "Yes, but her hours got cut back on Tuesdays and Fridays. She gets off at two."

It was one-thirty. She'd probably be back home in an hour.

Peeta was still eyeing me as we walked out the door, accidentally forgetting to say goodbye to the secretary. "You look really shook up, Katniss. Don't worry, okay?" He wrapped his arm around my waist reassuringly, and I felt him kiss me on the top of my head. "I'll make sure you're safe."

The simple sweetness of that nearly made me forget what I was fretting about in the first place, but the crumpled paper in my hand reminded me constantly. "I know you will. It's just so…_awful_."

He shook his head. "I know…"

"Grab an egg out of the refrigerator for me, will you?" Peeta asked, hands full and busy.

We were in the kitchen, the aroma of baking cookies filling the house with immeasurable deliciousness. Peeta was busy stirring a thick paste better (that needed eggs apparently), and I was looking at the pictures on the top of the fridge with interest.

Upon his request, I took out an egg and passed it to him, where it was cracked open and stirred in.

Things had been slightly tense and wary since we'd gotten home. Peeta seemed extra-fidgety, keeping one eye on me the entire time. Though we tried to discuss the news from today as little as possible, there was no avoiding it. In fact, we were making these cookies to take over to Mother's house when we go to ask her if she knew about it. I was silently watching the clock for when she was supposed to arrive.

Peeta motioned me over. "Taste this," He offered me a bit of the creamy brown batter.

I stuck it in my mouth and made a noise of pleasure. "Perfect. When is the other batch going to be done?"

"About fifteen seconds."

I shooed him aside so I could pull them out of the oven using two thick mitts. They were puffy and golden-brown and send the most amazing smell wafting all around the house. I wanted so bad to eat one, but knowing I'd just get burned and a scolding from Peeta, I set them nicely on a large plate.

As the second (and last) batch was cooking, Peeta came over to me and slipped his arms around my waist fondly. "How are you doing?"

Fine, obviously, but saying that would just be annoying to him. I knew what he meant, though. I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling, and then allowed him a small smile. "I feel _perfectly adequate_."

He leaned close to me, resting his forehead on mine. I could feel his breath very gently on my mouth, and I knew he was smiling, even through my closed eyes. I could feel his thumbs brush against my stomach from where they were on my hips. "And how is Peeta Jr. doing?"

I flicked him on the chest. "He's not there yet. And stop calling him that."

Peeta's laugh vibrated his chest. "What do you mean he's not there yet? Don't be such a pessimist."

It wasn't my complete pessimism that made me say that. It was that if I wasn't pregnant, I'd know on the thirtieth. And that was still in two days.

I ignored Peeta's comment and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Don't let the cookies burn."

He rolled his eyes.

All of the treats were gathered and 2:45 hit, and so Peeta and I set out the fifty feet it took to get to the front door of my mother's house where her and Primrose, my lovely little sister, lived. It was quite a large house for just the two of them, but it suited them just fine. A large, luscious garden sprang from the earth behind the house, leafy tendrils sprouting every which way. And not to mention all of the hundreds of multi-colored flowers around their house. It seemed alive with use and warmth of girlish care.

Peeta went first up the wooden steps and gave the door a customary knock, though it wasn't really for us to bother with that.

The door opened, and Mother was standing in the doorway. When she saw us, her smile grew wide and wrinkly. "You caught me just in time. Come in, come in."

We did.

The paper folded in my pocket felt like it weighed a ton.

Inside, the house was as big as ours. The spacious living room was where we walked in first, seeing the door to the kitchen to our left, and the group of couches to our right, the tall staircase directly in front of us. And sneaking past the bottom of the stairs was the curve of the hallway, where it leads to more bedrooms.

On one of the suede couches was my little sister, Primrose. She had her legs tucked underneath her, and she was bent over a packet of papers with a pen, frowning in concentration. When she heard us come in, her head lifted up and she grinned. Setting down the papers, she hopped off the couch and came over to us.

"Hey, guys." Prim's smile made dimples appear on her cheeks.

I gave her a brief hug, out of habit, but my attention was drawn back to Mother.

"Is there anything wrong?" My mother was putting away the tray of cookies, but we could still hear her from in the kitchen.

Peeta put his arm comfortingly around me, and we kind of shuffled after Mother. I wasn't sure what to tell her, mostly because my family was the kind of family who—unless 100% proven otherwise—think that no one can do any wrong now that the Capitol is gone. How was I going to explain this?

All four of us sat around the table and helped ourselves to cookies, but I noticed neither Peeta nor I ate ours.

Swallowing, I pulled the paper out of my pocket and set it on the table surface in front of me. "Have you read the District 13 news today?"

The jovial smile on my mother's face disappeared. It was most certainly not _good_ news, whatever we wanted to tell her. She reached out and took the paper from us.

"It's the second page."

Primrose went over by her mother and read over her shoulder. And slowly, as they read, creases appeared in their foreheads with frowns. My little sister's eyes widened a fraction in fright, and she looked up at me.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" she asked.

I lowered my head, but thankfully, Peeta caught the waver and saved me.

"We don't know yet, but it really shook us up when we read it." He glanced over at me and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

Mother looked highly worried as she gave the paper back. "…If that really is the case, it stands to reason that going out alone isn't the wisest idea anymore until this is resolved."

Duh.

I didn't say that to my mother, though. I just let all of us sit in silence, absorbing the news we received.

Later that day, I was standing in my room, looking at a painting on the wall. It was a very good one of me and Ivy. The first time I realized how much I absolutely loved that little girl. It was a good day.

"How are you feeling?" Peeta appeared behind me and put his arms halfway around my waist. "You don't look very well."

"I'm fine," I told him, pulling away from his arms not unkindly. "Just deep in thought. I'll be right back." I _was_ deep in thought, that wasn't a lie. But I didn't feel very "fine". In fact, I felt the opposite. Deep inside me, something told me that Peeta and I wouldn't have very much longer together before something happened. No idea what, but it put me on edge. _Don't be stupid_. _Nothing is going to happen._ _He won't let it._

I grabbed a nightgown from the wardrobe and slipped into the bathroom to change for the night. Dinner was threatening to make a reappearance, which would be horrible, but I managed to keep it down for now. Shivering quietly, I removed my clothes and slipped on the gown. It was heavy and warm, reminding me of way back a couple months ago…

A lump rose in my throat, painful. This was really freaking me out. I was uncharacteristically paranoid as I shuffled back into the bedroom, where Peeta was attempting to pick up the room.

He glanced up, saw me, and knew that look on my face. "Katniss,"

I didn't even want to hear it. I put my arms around his waist and buried my face in his chest. "Do you really think that what everyone is saying is true?"

Thankfully, no tears were threatening to pour down my face at that moment.

Peeta put his arms around me as well, pressing his cheek to the top of my head. "Even if it is, I won't let anything happen to you. I keep telling you. Do you not believe me?"

I believe you, I wanted to tell him. But it wasn't me that I was worried about.

Swallowing, I drew away and crawled under the covers of our bed. I felt so fragile, vulnerable. It wasn't the best feeling, honestly. I couldn't even look up at him when Peeta came and laid next to me.

"Smile for me, okay?" He put his arms around me again, trying to cover my weak emotions with his own loving ones.

I could feel his adoration through the tenderness of his fingers in my hair and his lips on my cheeks. My body was curled away from him, but his arms were around me in a comforting cocoon shape. I wanted his warmth to drown away my frightened feelings. Visions of war and death littered my mind and I turned around to press my face against his shoulder.

"Sleep well, Katniss." He let out a drowsy sigh, tightening his arms. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you—the both of you." His finger grazed my stomach.

The both of us… I liked that.

I let my Peeta pull me under, his arms and heart cradling me away from all the bad dreams.

**oOo**

_Sorry about the ending, there, guys. I got a sudden brain fart. It was horrible. Anyway, please review. If you love me. Hope you liked the first chapter of the THIRD STORY. Woop woop. :3_


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, I think that first chapter went rather well. And now lookit where you found yourself! Chapter two! Enjoy this immensely, please. (:_

_Note: Some might see the…how would I put this? In this story I suppose Katniss and Peeta will act a little more…close than in the actually books. But this is okay, because their relationship has evolved incredibly throughout the first two stories, so it isn't OOC-ness. _

_Thanks. (:_

_Another note: This starts the…29__th, __I think. Yeah. Got that? Good. (: you can read now. Have fun. (: And as a treat, I'll make sure it isn't dragged out or anything. I promise. If it ever, EVER seems to start dragging out, tell me PRONTO so I can fix it, okay? (: _

**oOo**

The next morning, I woke up to the blankets getting tugged off me. Letting out an annoyed shiver, I reached over involuntarily to grab them back.

"Sorry," Peeta whispered.

Oh, no big deal. You only woke me up from a soundest sleep I've had in days. My eyes peeled open and blinked at him. He was sitting up, legs swung off the bed.

"What are you doing?" The tiredness was fading from my voice slowly.

A pause.

"I work at the bakery today."

His face was so apologetic and sweet; it reminded me of a schoolboy getting caught stealing candy. I had to sit up and put my arms around one of his. "You weren't planning on leaving me asleep, were you?"

Peeta rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it."

We showered and dressed, and as I was in front of the mirror examining a small mark on my skin (just barely covered by the neck of my shirt), Peeta appeared behind me. He began twisting locks of my damp black locks in his fingers.

"Your hair is getting long," he noted.

It was. The bottom reached easily to the waistband of my trousers. Blinking absentmindedly at him from the reflective glass, I shrugged. "Is it okay if I came with you today? To the bakery?"

With a small kiss on the top of my head, Peeta said, "Of course. I don't know how safe leaving you home is anymore."

There was an immediate threat over overprotective-husband syndrome. It was hard not to frown, but it was dismissed quickly. Peeta had a _reason_ to be protective. And more time with him was fine with me.

I leaned back into his chest and sighed. "When do you have to be there again?"

"Eight. I was planning on stopping by and seeing Annie and Jace before heading on."

It was lovely having the family so close by. We'd grown very familiar over the past few weeks. Annie wasn't half as "unstable" as everyone thought, and Finnick was as arrogant and good-natured as ever, acting sort of like a big brother to me, minus the crude innuendos he always makes about me and Peeta. And Jace… About two months old, he flips me heart upside-down. I've known him since birth, _literally_. I was the one who delivered him.

We had lent the three an empty Victor's house to use, so that's where they'd be.

Peeta stepped to my front and folded his hands behind my back. Our bodies pressed lightly together in close comfort. He smelled kind of like lemon. Nothing was said, though. We kept silent as our hearts drowned out all other sounds. This happened often and I loved it when it did.

"Hey, Peeta?" My arms tightened their grip slightly around his torso.

"Hm?"

Suddenly, my throat closed up. I've said these words so many times; how come they stop my throat now? I pressed the side of my face against his chest. "I love you, you know that?"

He kissed my forehead and stared down at me sadly through his buttery-blond eyelashes. "What's wrong, Katniss?"

Something wrong? I don't _feel_ like anything's wrong. I don't _feel_ like anything's wrong. Wait—yes, it does. Something I couldn't identify gnawed at the lining of my stomach, giving me a stomachache. It was most likely paranoia… Nothing _seemed_ wrong,

I pulled away, and in a neutral voice, said, "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

The look on Peeta's face told me that he was not convinced. I wouldn't have been either.

"You forgot to put the _what_ in?" Peeta's eyes were narrowed.

We were in the bakery kitchen at 8:32, and one of the bakers—a shallow, handsome young man from District 1 named Benjamin Erik—had slipped up.

Benj shifted his weight a little further away from Peeta. He's had way too much experience getting chewed out by his boss. "….The yeasts?"

Peeta smacked his head against the wall.

"B-But, look," The armature baker held out a loaf of gold-colored bread, but it looked very flat and very…solid. "It didn't turn out _that_ bad."

A knife was brought out and a slice of bread was cut. One bite and Peeta's face screwed up.

"I've got an idea." He set the rest of the piece back on the pan.

Benj looked hopeful.

"How about every time this happens, I'll pay you in bad bread instead of money?"

"Or you could actually start making edible food…"

Anna-Mae stood a little ways away (stirring cake batter), a dainty smile creeping up onto her face. When she first got the job, she barely spoke five words a day. Of course, it still wasn't too many more, but we discovered her personality is very good-natured and kind. And, like everyone else, she enjoyed a good laugh at Benj's expense.

Benjamin shuffled off to skulk and vanished out the back door.

Shaking his head, Peeta tossed a huge hunk of bread dough onto a floured countertop and began kneading it. I watching him with intent; watched the tendons on his hands move, watched the muscles under his arms flex. It was very rhythmic work. I suppose only Peeta could make kneading bread beautiful.

"Um, boss?"

We all glanced over at Benj, who was standing under the frame of the door leading to the alleyway out back behind the shop. His face was uncomfortable and baffled as if he saw a ghost.

"You're going to want to see this."

Thirty seconds later, all four of us were standing outside surrounding a large cardboard box, closed. On it, a stamp had marked two words. I'm sure you could guess what they were; it really wasn't too surprising.

"'The Agency'," I read aloud, frowning. Up until then, it seemed like someone else's problem, and it may or may not have been legit. But the red ink stood out, loud and obnoxious against the brown paper.

A long pause.

"Should we open it?" Benj flitted his eyes up to his boss.

Peeta was frowning greatly as well. "…They weren't anything threatening in all of the other packages." He began reaching towards it, but I had to grab his hand back.

"_Don't." _A sudden fear of losing him clung me to his side. "This about who you _are_. This would be a _perfect_ way to kill you."

He gave me a look.

I kept staring him down with a stern glare, to let him know I was serious. There is no way I'm going to let his stupidity take him from me.

"Katniss," He looked back down at the box. "If it isn't a bomb, it's supplies. And we need more. There's only enough for a week in business, and the deliveries from 11 and 9 haven't come yet."

"Then close the bakery until the deliveries come." It was hard resisting the urge to stomp my foot. "I'm not risking it."

Benj rolled his eyes at me, in an action that clearly said, _women_.

Peeta's eyes met mine for a second. I could see the purple of the early morning sky reflected in his blue ones, and I kept his gaze until he looked away, almost as if in pain. It was a long while until someone spoke.

"Honestly, you two." I feel like I'm going to throw up." Benjamin snorted and made a "shooing motion. "_I'll _open the damn box."

Anna-Mae looked a tiny bit worried, but kept her silence and shuffled back in.

Great, now if Benj died I'd feel terrible. But better than Peeta dying. Always better. How selfish is that?"

Inside the warm, lit bakery kitchen, Peeta put his arms around me and gave my temple a comforting kiss. "Don't feel bad," he said. "I promised I'd never leave you."

I said nothing, but nothing was needed.

The back door opened and a very _highly_ annoyed Benj poked his head through the back door. "You owe me, Mellark. Now come help unload."

Not a bomb… Haha. I shot an apologetic glance over at Peeta, who just smiled benevolently.

And so we unloaded the contents of the giant box into the bakery. After taking inventory, they concluded there was enough to go on for another month, which was plenty of time.

"We're probably going to need to report this," Peeta said casually after everything was put away. He tugged absentmindedly on my braid. "For the records if nothing else."

Anne-Mae volunteered quietly and slipped out the door. And not thirty seconds later, the little bell in the front rang.

"Will you get that?" Peeta gave me a swift peck on the lips. "I need to see to our incompetent bread maker."

Smirking, I agreed and went into the shop part of the bakery.

"CANISS!" A redheaded ball of energy launched itself at me and wrapped her chubby little arms around my neck.

I coughed ginger hair out of my mouth. "Ivy…"

The four-year-old planted a wet kiss on my cheek. "I _missed_ you, Caniss!"

I couldn't resist laughing as I set her back down. "It's only been three days."

My little girl just grinned at me.

Of course, she wasn't _mine_. Ivy Sawyer, barely four years old, and already a diva. Peeta and I her about a month or so ago in town, and got immediately attached to her sparkling charisma. Not to mention that there has been a doubt of my "child-bearing abilities", so whatever angsty doubts I'd been having, Ivy filled in the spot of my kid most of the way. She was one of the three bridesmaids for our wedding, looking like a baby angel in her little green dress, which brought out her celery-colored eyes. I loved her absolutely to death.

That day, it seemed as though her mother—Caroline—had brought her to the bakery. She had a grandmother (Lucia) who was delightful and as ancient as the earth itself, but Ivy had no father. I never bothered asking what happened…

Caroline Sawyer walked up behind her little daughter and brought out a small coin pouch. "We didn't expect you to be here, Katniss."

"Yeah, I have to be." I said, trying to keep the disgruntle-ness out of my voice. Ivy began tugging on my trouser leg, but I shook my head down at her and continued talking to Caroline. "Peeta doesn't want me by myself every since we read the District 13 article."

"Oh, yes." The middle-aged lady bit her lip in upset. "That's a puzzle, isn't it?" A glazed look appeared in her hazel eyes for a split second, but she shook her head and it was gone. "At any rate, we're out of bread, so if I could get some..."

I tried to remember all that Peeta told me, where certain loaves were stored and what they were labeled. But before Caroline could tell me what she wanted, Ivy crawled up my arms, demanding a moment of my attention.

"Caannniiiss?" she said, sugary-sweet. "May I have some cookies, please?"

The little girl's manners were just too adorable, I couldn't help but laugh.

Caroline was mortified. "Ivy, dear, we can't—"

"Oh, it's fine." I assured her, knowing it was. Peeta'd give Ivy the entire bakery if she wanted it. He had a soft spot for her. Ivy giggled. She loved going into the kitchen, if only just because she got free sweets.

Her mother slumped her shoulders, defeated, and gave her child a tweak on the nose. "You're getting spoiled, love."

"I know." She batted her eyelashes.

In the kitchen, Benj grabbed Ivy by the feet and began shaking her gently upside-down, claimed he was getting the loose change from her. This was fine by everyone, obviously. Caroline and Ivy came here often, and everyone knew each other. Benj was "Unco Benji", and Anna-Mae was "Mae-Mae". They stuffed her pockets full of goodies every time she came. Maybe if they stopped doing that, their supply of yeast and sugar and flour would be a lot more than just one week's left. I wondered if Peeta had ever thought of that…

"Benjamin, stop tormenting the kid." Peeta snorted at his employee, while pulling on a pair of worn oven mitts. "She looks like she's going to hurl."

More like explode in giggles. Ivy was squirming all around, laughing so high-pitched it seemed like it'd break the glass in there.

"Unco Benji, LET ME GO!" she shrieked, trying to slap his hand away from upside-down.

Benj finally relented and turned the little girl right side up and set her on a small wooden chair. "No coins this time,"

Ivy stuck her tongue out at him.

He stuck his tongue out back.

"Stop bickering, children." Peeta mock-scolded, setting a tray of beautiful brown cookies on the cooling rack. "Don't make me go back there."

"Go back here, go back here!" Ivy yelled at him from all the way across the large kitchen. Her voice reverberated against pans and cutters of all shapes hanging on the ceiling, and the numerous piles of utensils set neatly in their holders.

Peeta obliged and went back there, tucked her under his arm, and made like he was going to throw her in the trashcan.

"No, NO!" She yelled, and managed to get free. Running from him at top speed, Ivy zipped to the opposite corner and hid behind Anna-Mae's legs. Like everyone else here, Anna-Mae had a soft spot for the little girl.

She reached down and handed her a disk of crumbly, sweet bread. "Tell me if this is good or not."

Ivy shoved the whole thing in her mouth and giggled approvingly. "Good." She then remembered her manners and swallowed before saying, "Thank you, Mae-Mae." And she skipped off to see if Benj had anything for her.

Caroline and Ivy stayed for a while. Despite assuring her she didn't have to pay, Caroline gave us the money for the bread, and—stuffed with cookies and other treats—Ivy waddled out after her mother, making satisfied giggling noises.

At six o'clock, Peeta hung up his apron and bid Anna-Mae and Benj goodnight. Taking my hand in his, we set out back across District 12. There were no errands in town we needed to do, so we set out straight for the Victor's Village. I noticed how Peeta kept looking all around us, and at one point he pulled me closer to him and whipped his head around in fright. But it was just an old man trying to get across the street. We resumed walking.

"I don't know about you," Peeta said, "but I'm looking forwards to dinner and then curling up under the covers."

Little pictures, memories of the past month flit through my head briefly, and I agreed with him. With luck, I'm pregnant. And I think the odds have finally turned in my favor. Perhaps luck will be _with_ me this time. Hopefully…

April 31st, 3:00 in the morning. My mouth tasted gross and my head buzzed with the fear brought on from my nightmare. It was one that froze me in place, unable to scream. In a cold sweat, I woke up and had to double-check next to me to make sure Peeta was still there, and still _alive_. I remembered having that horrible nightmare only once before, yet that time I screamed… A mysterious man (who turned out to be Snow) entered our bedroom, slicing Peeta's throat, and I'm sent into a panic, trying to keep him alive while his blood coursed between my fingers.

Wiping beads of sweat off my forehead, I slid out of bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. I was an awful mess, tangled hair all greasy from the sweat that had drenched the top layer of my skin. My pink nighty was twisted all around my waist, which was not the best thing for modesty. It was thin and fell a few inches above my knees, with only spaghetti straps holding them on my shoulders. Normally it was something I wouldn't think twice to wear, but for some odd reason, I felt attached to it. It was comfortable… But when twisted up my body from bad dreams, I might not have been wearing anything covering up my bottom at all. Honestly.

After straightening that out and washing my face off, I turned back towards the door to find Peeta standing there. He was only in his undershorts, squinting in the bright light at me as if he was still half asleep.

He paused for a few seconds before tilting his head to his left. "You okay?"

I glanced around, to the mirror and to my feet, and behind me. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Peeta looked around as well, and his brows puckered when he glanced at the toilet and at back me. "…You sure?"

I understood what he meant just then. My brain took a minute, but I understood. Taking a drink out of a tall glass of water, I raised blinked my eyes nonchalantly. "I haven't bled yet, if that's what you mean."

His face said '_Well, go ahead and be blunt about it.'_ He blushed a little, but woke up the rest of the way. A small grin spread across his ruffled face. He put his arms gently around my neck and kissed my forehead. "Did you have a nightmare?"

I nodded.

"Do you need to talk about it?"

I shook my head.

Peeta sighed and slid his arms around my waist, pressing his face into my hair. "…Do you think it worked this time?"

Honestly…? I brushed my finger along the curve of his bare collarbone. "It's been over twenty-four hours, and I've barely ever been a more than a day late in my life. I'd say so. Maybe."

His chest swelled visibly with happiness and I he surprised me by pressing his lips firmly against mine. It was like a shot of drugs up my arm. My legs filled up with jello and my heart fluttered madly like a hummingbird as Peeta actually _lifted me off the ground _and spun me into the bedroom. At the end of the bed, he stopped spinning me and pulled his lips away.

"I don't think I'll be able to go back to sleep now," he said gleefully, cupping my face in his warm, soft hands.

I _honestly_ had nothing mischievous in mind when I stretched back onto med, pulling him on after me. Peeta's body slipped carefully on top of mine before he kissed me again and rolled over onto his side next to me. His face was so near mine, I could feel his gentle breath upon my cheek.

"I love you," he said quietly in a singsong voice, nuzzling his nose a little further into my neck.

I felt him put his hand on my stomach, absentmindedly tracing the small circle my bone shapes made from my ribs and hipbones.

"Love you, too." I couldn't even remember my nightmare then. My mind floated along happily in a drunken, almost _embarrassing_ state. I didn't care. At all. I just pressed myself closer to Peeta and tired to fall asleep.

I did, eventually, and dreamed of children with black hair and blue eyes.

**oOo**

_I wasn't too sure how to end it, but I got_ _across what I wanted to get across. :D:D hope it was fantabulous. Review, pretty please with a cherry on top! Did you like Ivy? And Unco Benji? And…everyone else? Was it dragged out? Or maybe too fast? TELL ME! :D:D love you all, have a naaiice week! _


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks much_ _to those who reviewed the last chapter! Some said it was shorter than my usual chapters, which I'll most definitely take care of in this one. Definitely. I'm trying to keep things as happy as possible in the spare chapters before the climax, meaning extra Peeta fluff, which we all loveloveLOVE._

_Oh, and something else, in "Gravity", you guys would remember the part in which Katniss was with Ivy in Peeta's basement trying on the fire dress (remember, no?) but I realized one mistake. The dresses were in her mother's basement closet, not Peeta's. So therefore, the basement closet remains as empty as ever. _

_We good? Good. Now go read. :D _

_Oh, and I forgot at the first chapter, but… __**DISCLAIMER: **__I do not own The Hunger Games or any of the characters in it and so on and so forth. Suzanne does. Lucky dog. _

**oOo**

It was a June morning, the third. After waking in the night from more nightmares, when I fell back asleep, I _slept_. And when I finally opened my eyes, it was because of a hand on my shoulder.

"Morning!" Peeta's smile lit the room brighter than the open curtains. "I made you breakfast."

My mind prepared itself to be alert enough to think that I should maybe go downstairs and eat said food, but there was no need.

"Nn?" I raised a half-conscious eyebrow at the plates of eggs in Peeta's hands. The delicious smell wafted into my nose and I woke up a little more.

Peeta, obviously not wearing anything except a pair of undershorts, helped me sit up in bed, looking positively shining with pleasure. The plate on my thighs was hot, but in the mouth-watering way. To be honest, I haven't had breakfast in bed in…well, since before the Quarter Quell.

I looked from the beautifully-cooked eggs to my beaming husband. A tiny smile crept onto my face. "You spoil me too much."

He just kept beaming and put an arm around my waist. "That I do."

After eating, I didn't feel like moving much. I just lay there, stretched across Peeta's lap, toying absentmindedly with his fingers as his hand rested on my stomach. My pink nighty was in need of washing the night before, so I put on a highly more modest two-piece pajama set. There was no risk of riding up laying flat like that.

Funny, lately, Peeta's thoughts have been astoundingly easy to read. Though not exactly through his face, but his…demeanor. Just then, being there on the bed, I knew what he was feeling. Wasn't it obvious?

"You seem deep in thought," I said quietly to him, eyeing his preoccupied expression. If I didn't know better, I might have believed him upset, but the blank, almost unreadable face was anything _but_. He just seemed….very far away from here.

"Mmhm…" After only another second of expressionless silence, he blinked, caught my eye, and smiled a very crooked smile. "Very deep. What about you? How are you feeling?"

Peeta's taken to the habit of asking me that at least twice a day lately. Ever since that night a few days ago, he's had this crazy infatuation with my stomach. He'd touch it and stare at it, sometimes creeping me out. No matter how often I reminded him it's not a baby yet, he'd just roll his eyes and call me either a pessimist or say nothing at all. Don't get me wrong, I _want_ to believe. Besides, I hadn't said anything about it in a while. It was June third. I was three days late.

Letting out a fake-exasperated sigh, I shifted myself a little across Peeta's legs. "I'm _fine_."

He looked greatly amused and put both hands on my stomach. "And how about…?"

"It hasn't even been a month. I'm _fine_," I repeated.

"A lot of symptoms can happen within the first month," Peeta pointed out, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

"And you're the pregnancy expert." I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's common knowledge," he said. "I don't need to be a healer's daughter to know about morning sickness."

Of course you don't need to be a daughter, I wanted to point out. But I didn't. Peeta was confident enough about his masculinity. Never mind he's a pastry chef…

The smell hit me before the sight did. Soiled clothes, rotting food, unwashed dishes, puke, and the strong sense of alcohol permeated every inch of Haymitch's house as Peeta and I waded through the debris. My stomach twitched in upset.

"Looks like the wedding wasn't much of a turning point for him after all." Peeta had the collar of his shirt up over his nose.

For our wedding day—and the few days before—our old mentor had stayed shockingly sober. But of course, it was not to last. This was as bad as before, or maybe even worse.

I grunted in agreement.

We found Haymitch propped up against the bottom of the stairs, unshaven, filthy, and completely dead to the world. His snores seem to shake the very walls of the house, as did his smell.

Careful not to get anything on my shoe, I prodded his arm. "HAYMITCH. Wake up!"

He did no such thing.

"Help me with him," Peeta gripped Haymitch by under the arms and together we managed to half-drag-half-carry him to the couch in the living room.

This was more or less routine—get the drunk out of the way and clean the place as best as possible before waking him. It was a useful tactic because he can't complain to us about interrupting his beauty sleep because we just cleaned up his mess.

"How much can one drink in a week?" A dozen bottles of varying liquor were scooped up in Peeta's arms and dumped into a large black trash bag.

"I think that's what Haymitch is trying to find out…"

It took a good three hours to get the place looking at least half-decent, and by that time the kittle was letting off a high whine. After scrubbing to our elbows with grainy blue soap, we got to work with the kitchen. Peeta busied himself with making cornbread while I fixed the tea and set a pan of cinnamon on the stove, a trick my mother had taught me to make the house smell better.

"How do you plan on telling him?" Peeta asked while washing down a counter.

I was dreading that part of the visit worse than the cleaning part. Cold feet struck me hesitant and nervous. "Well, we don't even know if-if I _am_ yet. We should wait…another week…or so."

A scoff. "You can't back our now, we just cleaned his house."

I knew that. But how do you tell your practically-uncle-who-you'veknown-for-two-years-who've-saved-your-life-countless-times that you're pregnant? I could just imagine…

_Um, Haymitch? There's something I need to tell you…_

There really was no possible way to be subtle about that.

Peeta saw my anxiety. Frowning sympathetically, he came over to me, put his arms around my waist and gave me two short kisses on the cheek. "This is a good thing, remember? _Remember?_" He gave me a cute raised-eyebrows look.

"I remember…" I admitted. "But that doesn't make it any easier."

"Easier than telling your mother."

"_You're not helping."_

Ugh. He just _had_ to bring that up. It's hard enough with Haymitch, but the thought of telling Mother nearly made me sick with worry. She was the one who didn't approve of me having a boyfriend when I was sixteen. Now it's about three months from my nineteenth birthday, married, with a baby most likely on the way. How'd this happen? The state of shock I was in helped numb me a little, but honestly… She would explode.

"We could always let Haymitch find out the hard way." I no longer felt like thinking about my mother. "That's be just as effective."

"It would give the poor man a heart attack." Peeta laughed. "With our luck, all that alcohol would catch up with him right then and he'd keel. Better to tell him while you're still _you_."

I scowled. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Pregnant ladies are all hormonal and grouchy." He seemed to be amusing himself so much. A huge grin cracked across his face. "Oh, wait…"

I wanted to smack him and stomp away. I just might have, too, if the cornbread hadn't announced its completion. Eyes twinkling good-naturedly, Peeta tended to that, leaving me gnawing on the inside of my cheek and glowering.

Fifteen minutes later, we were around the coffee table and I was yelling in Haymitch's ear.

He mumbled something and waved my hand away in his sleep.

"Get UP." I yelled again, stomping my foot. "You don't want another ice-water bath!"

"Guuhhh…" Letting out an annoyed snort, my old mentor peeled open his eyes to look up at me. "'S not noon yet…"

"GET UP." I shook his shoulders violently.

"Aggh, stop that." Haymitch pulled away from my grip and wiped his nose with the back of his arm. "I'm up." The look in his red face had HANGOVER written all over it.

Satisfied with a finished job, I sat back on the opposite couch, fingers curled around a steaming cup of tea.

There was a horribly awkward silence.

Haymitch's eyes were narrowed thoughtfully, glancing from me to Peeta and back to me again, "…If this is all you came for, you should have sent pictures next time."

I glared at him in annoyance. "First, you complain about us never checking on you, and then you get annoyed when we finally do."

"Look, sweetheart," His brilliantly bloodshot eyes turned up to my eyes slowly, "my head is pounding, my mouth tastes like sick, and I'm short-tempered and irritable. Your excuse had better be pretty damn good for waking me up at nine-thirty on a weekend."

_It is, trust me…_

The right words couldn't come to me. They got all clogged in my throat and made my heart flutter with nerves. I wanted to beg Peeta for us to wait another, oh, month to tell everyone, but my argument lost. The both of us knew it. This time it was for real.

And I was frightened.

Peeta gently touched my wrist, but his face remained smooth and neutral. Of course, he was plainly telling me it wasn't his news to share. I was sort of alone on this one.

Another minute passed, counted only by the small analog clock on the wall. Finally, something happened. Haymitch understood.

He let out a breath. A long, disbelieving exhale that made me looks down at my hands, face turning red. My mentor had sunken down in the sofa, his hand on his forehead, eyes slightly wide with shock.

Well, at least I didn't have to say anything to him…

"Have you…" Haymitch cleared his throat. "Have you told your mother?"

I rubbed my eyelids and glance back up with a mournful look on. "Of course not. I have no idea how she'll take it…. If she'll be upset."

His expression seemed almost as confused and shook up as mine felt. "I don't know about upset, but it's certainly news. I _am_ assuming correct, right? That you're…" Haymitch swallowed and motioned to my abdomen.

I unintentionally snapped, lifting my head defensively. "We d-don't actually know, I mean it's-it's only been three days! I'm not even s—"

My mentor waved me off. "I don't need to know about your irregular cycles. I just wanted to know."

Sighing with defeat, I sank tiredly against Peeta. "Yeah. Fine. I am. I think."

"Pregnant?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

A very long period of silence followed, ended up bu Haymitch standing up.

"Well, good luck with telling your mother that," he said. "I need a glass of water and a nap."

No one mentioned that he just came from one.

As Peeta and I were walking down Haymitch's front porch, Peeta was annoyingly positive.

"At least you didn't have to tell him!" he chirped. "It went very well, if I do say so myself."

"One down, six to go…" I grumbled sulkily, wanting to pout a whole lot. Though, his words about this being happy stopped me. This was the worst part (besides the birth) of the process, telling everyone. It's be fifty times easier if I wasn't eighteen.

"Are you planning on telling Ivy and Caroline?"

After only a second of thinking, I nodded. "Yes, but not now."

"So Annie and Finnick?"

Their house was just right there next to Haymitch's. I probably _should_ tell them, at least before Mother and Prim.

I sighed heavily. "Let's get over with it."

Just then, Finnick's house door opened, as if on cue. Finnick himself came out, dressed in khaki trousers and a thin black T-shirt. He made it only down the front steps before noticing us.

"Hey, lovebirds." He grinned. A usual greeting from Finnick Odair, but thankfully unaccompanied by any innuendos.

Casual, I reminded myself.

"Hey." Attempting a smile, I folded my hands behind my back. "Going out?"

"Annie wants some more cloth diapers for Jace." Finnick's nose wrinkled, but other than that, he seemed fine with it. When there was a pause, he looked from me to Peeta a few times, and then frowned. "Who died?"

Peeta rolled his eyes and put his arm subconsciously around my waist. "We were just heading over to…share some news."

The other man looked pondering at the word 'news'. A hand reached up to rub his five-o-clock shadow. "Should I wait to go out?"

"We can…we can just tell you later." I flicked my eyes up to my husband in a _let's just tell Annie for now_ look, and back up to Finnick. "It's nothing bad, I promise."

The look of relief was obvious on his face. "Okay. I'll catch you two later, then." And with a winning smile at us, Finnick turned back around and carried on with his errand.

"Congratulations!" Annie put her arms around my neck in a tight, sisterly hug. She smelled like baby powder, but the happiness exuding from her touch was too much.

I returned the embrace. Thank you, Annie. I am…"

"Nervous?"

"That, and in a state of shock." My throat decided to form a lump, and I didn't try and swallow it. "I've been wanting this, but every time I'm forced to look at it in the face, I-I can't. It's almost like I'm in denial."

Peeta had wandered off into the kitchen with Jace, almost immediately after we told them. He had given me a kiss on the head and a look to the both of us that said: _I'll let you two have some girl time_. Thank goodness, because I was about to have some emotional breakdown, and I didn't want him to witness it when I did.

"Was this…" Annie frowned a tiny bit. "Was it…an accident?"

"Not really." My face reddened a little at admitting. "I-I mean, I wanted one, and we've sort of tried before, but…well, until I actually feel any different, I'm not sure I can believe it."

"But you are _pretty_ positive, right?"

Don't lie, Katniss. Don't even kid yourself. Honest. Honest, honest, honest…

"I'm certain." Okay, that was stretching the truth just a bit, but there was no kidding. The words were automatic. It's something you could _feel_.

A dimpled smile appeared on Annie's soft, tan face. "It'll be amazing, raising our children together, won't it? Give Jace a brother or sister. We should go to District Thirteen, just you and I, to get your first checkup."

Though excitement tingled through my chest, it was too early. "Maybe in a month or so."

Behind the closed kitchen door, a wailed erupted. A few seconds later, Peeta shuffled out, looking a little overwhelmed as Jace screamed in his arms.

He flicked his eyes up at me and Annie. "I didn't do anything, I promise."

"That's alright. Come here, honey…" Annie crooned, holding her arms out for her tiny son. He immediately nestled around her chest hungrily, and that was our cue to leave.

I reached over briefly to grip her hand, and then let go. "We'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yes." She was beaming. "Congratulations, again. That's _amazing_, it really is."

"We'll see you soon, Annie." I hated leaving the two, but it was necessary, and with only a look back briefly, I let Peeta's arm once again encircled me. We left.

**PEETA'S POV**

My mind was busy. Too bust. Pictures and worries and memories and theories washed in and out of my immediate thoughts like waves, breaking against the surface of my skull. Though I did my best to act as though I was fine and the day could have been just like any other, it was most certainly _not_. So many emotions tried overtaking me, it was impossible to sort them out and act rationally.

Katniss is pregnant?

Yes? No?

She doesn't seem happy…

But she _has_ to be.

She's pregnant…

Something is stealing victors.

Or is it a "who"?

Or is it not a "who" but a "what"?

Not a bomb, but supplies.

What does that mean?

Will they try and get her?

I cannot let them get her.

Must protect her.

Must protect my mockingjay.

My Katniss

Pregnant…

PREGNANT.

Me, a father.

I don't know how to be a father.

Do I know how to be a father?

I don't think so.

Just imagine, a child of my own in my own arms.

A boy, a boy.

My son…

Has to be.

Katniss is _pregnant_.

"What's the matter?"

I was forced to blink and be pulled back into reality by the curious voice of Katniss. I looked down at her, and saw she was chewing on her thumbnail again.

We were sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. Orange and gold tongues licked up the sides of the bricks, warming everything around us. The couch gladly sank under our weight, forming a comfortable nest for Katniss to snuggle up to my side. One of her arms was curled subliminally around her not-yet-ballooned stomach, and the other was brought up for her teeth to gnaw marks of worry into her nails. I had her wrapped in my arms, but her shoulders had not yet relaxed all the way.

"I should ask you the same." I couldn't help but press my lips to her forehead, smoothing out the frown her eyebrows had folded there.

"You just looked worried, that's all…"

That's one way to put it. The love and worry built itself a house in my gut, but I wasn't sure whether or not to let Katniss in on it. The last thing we need is for her to worry. It sort of looked as though she was already worrying, though. I wasn't sure. Nothing seemed right anymore.

I stretched one of my legs against the back of the couch and bent the other flat, so there was a dip for Katniss to sink further in. She seemed so _tiny_—

"I'm only worried about _you_." In a way, that was honest. Sighing, I put both of my arms around her waist and put my chin up on her shoulder. "You feel so tense, is there anything bothering you?"

"…A little." Katniss stopped talking, almost as if she was reluctant to tell me, or she wanted me to ask. But after only a few seconds, she leaned her head against my chest and crossed her arms over mine. "I keep thinking about…before the Games. See… G-Gale and I used to talk about the future."

My muscles tensed involuntarily.

"Don't be like that, we weren't planning anything." She glanced up at me in annoyance, and then continued. "No, I had just told him I never wanted children. There's no way a child of mine would ever go through what I had to go through."

"The Games are over, though." I pulled her a little closer to me in what I hoped to be reassurance. I kissed her on the cheek. "You don't have to worry about that."

"I'm not just talking about the Games in specific, Peeta." Katniss just seemed more annoyed, as though saying, _no DUH, smart one, of course the Games are over_. "I was talking about just…this in general. The Games were part of it, but the list just grew. The list of what to shelter children from. The Games. Hunger. Loss. Heartbreak. I didn't want to have a kid because she—or he—would have to face all the difficulties I did, and I'm _still_ facing."

A tiny lump formed in my throat, realizing her point to the exact degree. For a while there around the time between the first Games and the Quell, I didn't want children anymore. The pain I suffered inside was greater than anything I'd out any child of mine through.

"Those are the feelings everyone faces, Katniss, everyone goes through those things at least once in their lives—except perhaps the Games. But surviving and love and loss are all parts of growing up—all children will experience those at one point or another. It's what makes us human."

Katniss didn't say anything to that. She tightened her arms a great deal around her stomach and huddled a little further down into the couch. "…I don't even know how to be a mother."

"If you have the capability to learn and be loved, you have the capability to teach and love someone else. And I _know_ you can do both of those I am living proof of that. No one's expecting you to be superhuman." My hand had started a comforting sweeping motion, tucking her hair behind her ear slightly over and over again, brushing back the loose strands. "You will be fine."

Just then, the phone rang. It rarely ever rang unless something odd was up. Both Katniss and I frowned. When she began getting up, I stopped her and slid out from underneath her instead. "It's alright, I'll get it."

Katniss just frowned deeper. She watched through curious grey eyes, once again chewing on her thumbnail.

"Hello?"

"Peeta?" It was Annie, and her voice sounded a little worried. "Has Finnick—I-I mean, have you seen him? Has he—I don't know. He hasn't come home yet, and he left at ten."

It was seven in the afternoon. A feeling of dread had settled in my gut, making me inhale sharply. "Get Jace and go to Katniss' mother's house. We'll be there in a minute."

When I hung up, Katniss had stood, wavering in place with a puzzled look on. "Is everything okay?"

"Finnick hasn't come back."

Only a millisecond passed before comprehension struck Katniss, sending a wave of panic across her face. "Do you think…?"

All I said was: "Yeah." Stopping to grab a thin jacket from the coat rack, I gave Katniss' hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry; he could just be late."

Eight hours late? I didn't think so, but I tried to keep positive. No need adding more stress.

At Ms. Everdeen's house, Annie was doing her best not to panic. She had given Jace to Katniss, and was pacing back and forth with a wild look in her eyes. It may have been the first time I've actually seen her live up to the false reputation she had of being crazy. Her hands were pressed on either side of her head, seemingly trying to squeeze the pain away.

"Take a deep breath, honey." Katniss' mother pressed a mug of warm tea into Annie's hands. "You're going to be fine."

Annie didn't say anything still, and didn't take a drink.

Katniss shifted onto the couch next to me uncertainly. "I don't think she's worried for _herself_, Mother. You remember the piece of news I showed you a few days ago?"

Ms. Everdeen's lips tightened and her brows knit. "I remember."

"That means it was true. They—whoever 'they' are—are crawling up the districts."

"What doesn't make sense, though," I was frowning with everyone else, "is that Finnick is from District Four, not here."

Katniss' voice begun to crack with every word she spoke, realization roaring like oncoming traffic. "What if whoever is doing it isn't focusing on the people, exactly, but the districts? Like they only took Finnick to prove they were in District 12?"

Silence.

My heart had sunken, as did everyone else's here. Primrose visibly bit her lip (she had kept quiet most of the time), Ms. Everdeen looked mildly disturbed and kept her worried face on, Annie kept pacing, and Katniss shivered a little in the circle of my left arm.

The wavering was unable to be kept from my voice as I said: "Then if that's the case, we know why they're here."

"I thought this was _over_," Katniss hissed almost to herself, turning her head away. "Why can't we just live a normal life, for God's sake?"

"The second our names were reaped our lives were guaranteed _not_ to be normal, Capitol here or not," I said grimly. "The question is, what do we do about it? We need Finnick back, but we don't know anything, or if he even did get 'kidnapped.'" An idea was beginning to appear in the back of my mind.

Katniss eyed me suspiciously. "…What are you thinking of? What are you going to do?"

I took my arm away from her and stood up. "I'm going to find him."

Within a two-second span, Annie had stopped and looked up at me, the other three stood up, and Prim had taken Jace. A hand curled around my wrist in a death-grip, and I looked down at Katniss' fierce scowl.

"No way in Hell I'm letting you do that."

My eyebrows raised.

"You aren't going it I have to SIT on you until this whim of yours passes." She didn't let go of my wrist. "Were you not listening to anything we just said?"

"Of course," I said matter-of-factly, taking my hand back to pat her comfortingly on the arm. "But I have a feeling it isn't me they're after."

Katniss screwed up her face.

"And we can't just leave Finnick, for Annie and Jace's sake."

I knew I had won. The horrified, defeated look turning her mouth into a grimace was enough to make me go mad and repent, sweeping her into my arms and never letting go.

Though upset tears twinkled in her ashy eyes, she remained quiet as she walked over to a small drawer in the corner and pulled out a dangerous-looking hunting knife. It was slipped into my fingers.

"At least keep yourself safe."

I carefully slid the knife into the waistband of my trousers. When I looked up again, she had turned away, expression once again contorted with the effort to remain unemotional. It was breaking my heart.

"Can I…" Katniss turned back to face me. "Can I at least come with?"

Everyone was watching us.

I shook my head gently, and touched a finger to her abdomen discreetly, without bothering to see anyone else's reactions. "_You_ need to keep _yourself_ safe."

"I'll be safe!" She looked like she was going to stomp her foot. "I can take care of myself."

"It's not a matter of whether or not you can take care of yourself." Part of me didn't even feel like having this conversation, especially since Ms. Everdeen, Primrose and Annie were all staring at us. I paused. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Peeta—"

When I left out the front door, Katniss followed.

"Okay, _Peeta_, answer me this. What happens if you _do_ get captured, huh?" She was visibly fighting tears. "What am _I_ supposed to do?"

This was upsetting me. Half of my brain was fighting the other half. Katniss was really freaking out and doing her irresistible form of manipulation. My first instinct to that was to give herwhatever it takes to make her happy.

The second was to keep her and our unborn child safe. Thankfully, the latter won over.

"You're supposed to stay here and raise our kid. With luck, I'll be with you the whole way." I put my hands briefly on Katniss' hips and gave her a short kiss. "If I'm not back by ten, you can worry. But until then, try and keep the covers warm for me, okay?"

Her head bowed in defeat. "…Okay."

"Be good." I kissed her again. "I love you."

I turned around and walked off, leaving Katniss' morose expression illuminated by the orange June dusk.

**KATNISS' POV**

Prim threw her arms around me when I went back in. When she pulled away, her face was pulled in a brave expression.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon, Katniss," she said comfortingly.

Annie was sitting back down, Jace nuzzled snugly in her neck. Though the panic was mostly gone from her eyes, she was still twitching a little.

Her eyes met mine. "_Thank you."_

"Don't thank me." Really.

Peeta risked his life to find Finnick and bring him back—if he hadn't been kidnapped, that is. I felt pride, apprehension, anger, worry, all of those. I understood his motives, but how can he leave? How can he leave me and our child? He loved me—us—I know he did, but my fear for him almost ate me alive.

A tiny, irrelevant voice popped up in my head and reminded me that there are still two people in this room that don't know I'm pregnant. I glanced at Mother and Primrose. I wondered how they took Peeta's touching my stomach. Perhaps they didn't think twice. Perhaps they did.

Mother kindly set me down next to her and kept hold of my hand to give me strength.

"Before things get too… incomprehensible," I said, blinking away a stinging in my eyes," I might want to tell you two something."

Annie, who knew, nodded at me supportively, and my mother and sister leaned in curiously to hear this random news.

"I'm…I-I think I might be—" I kept stuttering, not wanting to tell them. But I _have_ to. Before any more regrets could stop me, I cleared my throat and blurted, "I'm pregnant…with-with Peeta's kid."

A tiny breath was squeezed from Prim's lungs in a squeak.

Mother's face went white, eyes spread with what seemed like shock mixed with incredulousness. Like she didn't believe me.

"I-I'm sorry..." I found myself rambling, eyes blurring now. "I should have—I didn't know h-how you would…. Mother?"

She looked sick. "I'll be right back." With trembling legs, she got up and left.

Primrose had begun flat-out bawling. Her thin hand gripped mine, and she was shaking her head. "That's so… I can't _believe_… Oh my goodness, Katniss, that's… Have you—Do you know…?"

"I don't know anything yet."

At that moment, it all came out in a surge. Euphoria, anxiety, _everything_ rushed into me and I had my hands over my mouth. Joy was hitting my head like a sledgehammer, causing my pulse to skip violently all around. I'm pregnant, _pregnant_! A baby… Me? I'm not ready, am I ready? What would Gale think if he were here? I told him I didn't want babies… Do I? I do. _Pregnant_?

Tears flooded down my face as I hugged Prim tightly.

At some point, Mother came running back in and joined our group breakdown. She kept asking me these questions, like if I've had any morning sickness and when the conception date was and if I had an idea about the name, etc. My mind was so fuzzy with joy, I kept laughing while crying, and kept repeating over and over, "I don't know, I don't know!"

Finally, they let go long enough for me to wipe my eyes.

"I-I don't even…" my mother babbled, fanning her face with a wet handkerchief. "D-Do you need anything?"

"I'm only three weeks in, Mother." My hands were trembling with excitement. "I don't need anything yet." This was so emotionally exhausting, I couldn't even look anyone in the eyes right then. Out of nowhere, I stood up and shuffled off to the bathroom to cry more.

In the end, I found myself back home. After us girls had calmed down, we sat around the coffee table, drinking away the entire stash of tea, discussing what we should do. Until we knew anything else, Annie was to stay with Mother and Prim. That would be best.

It was easy to occupy myself in my own house. I remade the beds in all of the rooms, scrubbed and swept and vacuumed all of the floor space possible. I was busy wiping down the shelves in mine and Peeta's room when I noticed something strange. Though it wasn't automatically identifiable, it seemed as though the top of the wardrobe was missing something. I spent several minutes trying to figure out what it could be, but gave up in the end, going over to shut the window I hadn't remembered opening.

The time was well past ten when I put down my cleaning supplies and decided to go downstairs to pace. In the kitchen, I poured myself a tall glass of orange juice and sat down on the counter.

What if Peeta had been captured? What if he's not coming back? I can't be alone; I can't raise our kid alone. I couldn't even _fathom_ not living with him. A life without his crinkling smile, without his tenderness and complete devotion to me, without his kisses. It was impossible, I needed it! I needed _him_!

Fear prickled my heart almost violently.

_Peeta… Where ARE you?_

The juice in my glass was trembling visibly from my hands, making it necessary to set it on the counter next to me. I had begun picking at my nails, so to stop that, I squeezed my hands together. I was only a couple of weeks into pregnancy (or at least, I was 99% sure I was…), it was almost as if I could _feel_ it already—and internal sense that I was carrying a life other than mine inside of me. I needed the reassurance I wouldn't be doing that alone. I needed—

A rattling noise interrupted my panicky thoughts.

The door? The door.

I practically leapt from the counter and made it halfway across the room before Peeta came in from the kitchen door, looking tired but curious to see if I was in there. When our eyes met and I came running to him, he caught me around the waist and lifted me up a foot into the air.

My chest soared with relief and I felt tears of gratitude tickle my eyes. All of Peeta was enveloping me; his hands, his heartbeat, his breath, his scent. I buried my face in his neck and let him set me back on the kitchen counter. His arms pressed me tightly to him, only yielding their embrace when I pulled away.

"Don't _ever_," I poked him hard in the chest, "_**EVER**_ do that to me again. You scared the living hell out of m—"

Peeta silenced me by pressing his lips to mind. Suddenly, everything was better. He knew just how to shut me up, and he used this method often. It was mean (but effective). His mouth curved into a sly smile because he knew that.

"How have you been?" Peeta broke away and leaned forwards on his hands, which were on either side of my hips. His smile was dazzling.

I answered truthfully. "Scared stiff."

"Better now?"

"Infinitely."

There was a moment in which we just absorbed each other's presence gratefully, only ended by the recollection of why he was gone in the first place. My face dropped and my happy adrenaline left.

When Peeta caught on to my sudden change of mood, his face dropped as well. "I…stopped by your mother's place before coming here. That's why I was a little late."

Judging by the upset look on his face, I knew the news he bore was not good news. I put my hands over his. "And Finnick?"

"Gone." He grimaced. "I looked _everywhere_, even asked half a dozen people if they'd seen him. No sign."

I bowed my head in a loss of words, not knowing what to do or say. I couldn't imagine how Annie was coping. And I thought _I_ was feeling lost.

Peeta sighed, momentarily resting his head on mine. "Something else odd, though."

"What?" It couldn't be any worse than Finnick disappearing off the face of this earth.

"The train station is closed." He caught my raised-eyebrows look. "Temporarily, I think, but no one would tell me why. The booths were empty and the engines were cold… As if they'd been dead for a good week or so."

I was momentarily surprised into forgetting about Finnick. "The train station? Why'd they close down at _this_ time?"

"No idea…" Peeta was distressed. After only a moment of biting his lip, he shook his head and touched my cheek briefly. "Let's go to bed, okay?"

"…Okay." Gloomily, I slid off the counter into the welcome circle of my husbands' arms. He held me for a minute, and then took my hand to lead me up the stairs.

I didn't even feel too averse to undressing in front of Peeta this time over. Never mind he kept glancing over at me from the corner or his eye. I tugged on a pair of his pajama pants and just left on my undershirt.

"I hope they find out who's kidnapping the victors soon…" I said after pulling the clothes into place, staring absentmindedly out the window. It was nearly pitch-black out, with only the light of a waning moon to illuminate objects below our second-story glass.

Peeta stuffed his shirt unceremoniously into the laundry hamper. "So do I. Not only just for Finnick, but for the other families, too."

"Yeah…" My eyes latched distractedly on something outside. At first I thought it could have been just the shadow of a tree, but when it moved, I was forced to stare.

Intrigued by my own interest, Peeta came over to squint out the window with me. "What is…?

The shadow moved again, and suddenly—lit up by the yellow light of the moon—it was streaking across our backyard. Large and clumsier than a deer or dog, It ran into another shadow, not too fast but not too slow. My heart skipped several apprehensive beats before I gripped Peeta's sleeve. But before he could utter a word, another form snuck out of the shadows, followed by six more.

Suddenly, he was grabbing my hand and yanking me violently from the room, a string of startlingly uncharacteristic curses flying from his mouth.

"Peeta, where—?" I felt the fright through his unyielding grasp, but there was no time to do anything other than gasp those two words.

We both knew what was going on. Those shapes sneaking around in our backyard were no bunny rabbits. But were they going after Annie or Haymitch? Or were they heading straight for our house? If they managed to get Finnick, then there should be no problem snatching up two sleep-ready teenagers in their underclothes.

"In there," Peeta hissed into my ear, letting go of my hand and shoving me towards the basement door. "I'll be there in a minute."

I resisted. "I'm not letti—"

"For God's sake, Katniss, do as you're told for just once in your lifetime!" He looked exasperated and frantic, once again pushing me towards the basement.

Ouch. Gritting my teeth, I threw open the stiff, unused door and stomped into the dark, hoping bitterly that he still had the knife I'd given him.

It was two cold, lonely minutes I stood in the basement, breathing dust and waiting for Peeta to come back. When he did, I heard the hasty locking of the basement door and steps down. His chest was heaving slightly, but his expression did not change when he saw my scowl.

"I locked all the doors and windows I could." Peeta came over and—with eyebrows creased and hands trembling—offered his open arms to me. "I didn't see anything else, but…"

I tucked myself against his torso and momentarily tried to breath, catching the scent of his shirt with the smell of must. "Who do you think is doing this? What's going on?"

The large cement-walled room didn't feel so chilly anymore. Though our hearts were racing with adrenaline, I had this sense in my gut, like I wasn't worrying enough. I didn't feel…afraid, really. Just surprised, like walking down a dark, empty tunnel, and suddenly having a car speeding towards you at ninety miles an hour. You'd be more curious at the bright light and "what is this doing here?" than worried about getting splattered across the tunnel floor.

Peeta just shook his head and lifted his hands to cup my face. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine." My lip was bleeding from where I'd bit down so hard, but other than the dull throbbing from that, I felt better than I probably should. "What about you, scaring me half to death? I wish you'd just…stay put."

A tiny, sympathetic smile appeared on his forehead, again arousing that guilty feeling.

"I promised I'd never leave you, I know, but I also promised to protect you." Sliding something from the clumsy, loose waistband of his undershorts, Peeta pressed an object—cool and smooth—in my hands. A dagger. That makes us even… He kissed my gently on the forehead. "I'm willing to die for you, Katniss. I _will_ keep you safe."

The guilt had begun to fester in my stomach, turning into something else. Though grief was not it, wetness stung my eyes, along with a painful rush of some emotion (perhaps abandonment, except more of the self-abandonment type) that decided to heat my throat. I squeeze my arms around Peeta's waist and breathed soft feathers of air onto his warm neck.

"I just don't think I can live without you right now," I admitted. "It's scary enough as it is, but to have you skipping off like that, risking your life…"

Peeta laced his hands behind my back, holding me. "Better me than you. Always better."

There was silence to answer, not nearly as cool as the floor beneath my feet. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I worried our house was possibly getting raided, but there was no racket from above. Everything was quiet and still, muting the mood. When several minutes passed with nothing said, Peeta decided to break the silence.

He sighed, casting his eyes absently around the gloomy room. "I'm thinking we should stay down here tonight, just for precautionary measures. Then in the morning, we'll discuss with everyone what to do about our new stalkers."

"I want to run," I blurted out suddenly, but felt embarrassed immediately after. "…Escape into the woods, you know?"

Peeta blinked, paused, and then kissed my nose. "We'll discuss it tomorrow."

Ugh. Boys.

Through the next half-hour, we tried to make it a little more livable down in the basement. Peeta lit some candles he found in a box in the dust-drenched closet, and I was working on getting _rid_ of the dust. No matter how much he (tried to) persuade me, I refused to let him go upstairs to get more blankets. It wasn't _that_ cold, and besides, there were already a few stored down here. Sure, they smelled a little odd, but worked exactly how other blankets work.

"Blegh…" I wiped my hands down the thighs of the PJ pants I was wearing. "I need another shower… This dust seems to cling."

Peeta raised his eyebrows, attention turned to me from the makeshift bed he was creating in the corner. "I'm pretty sure the shower in there still works." He pointed to the never-used basement bathroom I had deemed haunted.

I shivered. "No thanks."

For some reason, the on-edge feeling in my gut hadn't left completely. My forehead was creased, hands twitchy, and ear pricked for any sign of movement from upstairs. And Peeta, thankfully, saw my unease and walked behind me to put his hands on my shoulders.

"You're so tense…" he said sympathetically, feeling the clenched muscles under his fingers. "Is there something else you need to talk about?"

No. Wait—Yes, there is. Something besides Gale. My silence was taken as a "yes", and Peeta let me gently to lay down on the blankets he'd spread out on the floor. We lay parallel to each other, me on my back and him on his side. One of Peeta's hands rested on my stomach, where my own hand covered his.

"What's on your mind, Katniss?" His voice and facial expression was serious, yet gentle and comforting.

I opened my mouth to explain in a hopefully calm way, but tears came instead. Before I could even think about it, sobs were shaking my shoulders and ripping out my throat. Even my hands over my mouth couldn't quell them. No, _stop that_. No more crying. I felt so weak and vulnerable, embarrassed that I was so fragile these days, crying over nothing.

Being pregnant at eighteen wasn't nothing, though, was it?

"Oh, Katniss…" Peeta crooned sympathetically, gathering my small form in his arms. His fingers touched my hair and neck, trailing down to rub comfort into my taut, quivering back. "You're okay, Katniss, please don't cry."

I tried.

My skin prickled oddly at his touch, making it feel kind of like static electricity. It tugged closer to Peeta almost painfully, wanted to disappear into him. And though he was holding me as close as he could—our cheeks were pressed together—it wasn't enough. I felt like I was slipping away, every touch a little push into blackness, a shock that sent tingles down my spine.

The feelings only made me shrink closer. My nails may have accidentally caught skin when clinging tightly to his torso, trying to blind myself of the feeling by pressing my eyes into the dip of his collarbone.

It was impossible shaking off the feeling.

Without considering it much, I pulled Peeta's face down to mine and kissed him. Along with a sigh, two new trickles of saltwater accompanied the moment.

Like a blanket over a stereo, everything outside was suddenly muffled. He was so delicious, and numbed my previous feelings. I had to press him closer.

"Easy now, Katniss," Peeta murmured against my mouth, gently pulling away. Though his hands on my face were tender and loving, the look in his sky-blue eyes was just of sadness. He gently ran the tip of his index finger along my bottom lip. "I _love_ kissing you, I _love_ touching you, but we both can agree that you're not exactly in your right mind right now."

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I mumbled, "I'm in my right mind…"

"Right…" He leaned in closer to me for the second time, very gently brushing our mouths together. "There'll be plenty of time for this later. Lots of it. I promise."

"Later" was not soon enough, but I didn't tell him that.

But I didn't pout. I accepted whatever he had to offer and just snuggled into his chest again. Peeta's hands found their way back to my stomach as they always did, feeling, it gently under his fingertips.

"Do you want me to tell you a story?" Blinking with a straight face, Peeta sat up and crossed his legs (never letting his hands stray from my abdomen, mind you).

A story? He didn't often tell me stories. This was new, interesting. Settling on my back again, I closed my eyes. "Sure."

And so he did. It was a story, somewhat amusing, about him when he was five. It involved one of his older brothers, a free Saturday morning, and lots of baking flour.

His mother was furious.

At the end of Peeta's story, I was drifting asleep. Sheep danced lazily around my head, colors my conscious was dipping itself in, sending my body into a state where the only thing left aware of anything was my hearing sense and my touching sense. I could feel his thumb tracing shapes onto the thin material of my undershirt covering my belly.

I didn't know how long the stillness echoed silence between us. My mind tried very hard to get pulled all the way into sleep—it was so exhausted—but every time I almost reached that blackness, a sound like Peeta turning his head would pull me a little more back.

It seemed almost as though he was keeping watch over me. Reminding me of the Hunger Games, I couldn't exactly say it made me happy. Peeta remained sitting up cross-legged, both hands on me, audibly staying awake because every now and then he'd sigh.

A while later—like I said, I don't know how long—I was just about ready to open my eyes again because I was fed up with being almost-but-not-quite asleep. What stopped me was the second I decided that, I felt Peeta shift next to me, and his voice, soft and quiet, broke the silence.

"I'll keep you safe…"

At first I thought he was talking to me personally. Since I didn't have the ability to speak, I just kept still; the only thing proving I'd heard him at all would be the adoring _glug_ of my heart as it strained to be held by him again. It remained unsatisfied, at least until I understood that he wasn't talking to me.

Peeta's warm breath could be felt brushing as light as a beam of sun on my stomach. He was leaning over it, hands on either side of my belly button.

"Both of you. She doesn't believe so, but I will." His voice was so soft, so beautiful talking to the child I was carrying. The child who was barely developed at all, the child with no arms or legs or _ears_. The child, however, that was ours.

There was a possibility I was dreaming this, but I seriously didn't think so.

Peeta carried on, leaning back only an inch away from my skin. "I know you can't hear me, but maybe in your own way you will. You'll know just how much I love you, how much your mother loves you. She's afraid, you know." He took on a sad tone. "She's so afraid… She thinks that she won't make a good mother. That she doesn't know how."

Pause.

"I don't know how to be a father..."

I hoped he couldn't hear my heartbeat through the quiet of the room. It had grown, mostly out of sheer…disbelief? No, I could believe it. I just felt so completely… committed, adoring. I loved him more than anything, and the swelling of my chest—which could have been pride as well—was my heart taking on room to love another. The other that was growing inside of me. But for the time being, I would lay still. Listen.

Peeta trailed his pinky finger absently along the slightly bony jut of my hipbone as I lay. "Then again, there are so many things I don't know. I don't know what will happen in one month. Two. Nine. I don't know how Katniss will handle this, how I'll handle her handling. I don't know if you're a boy or a girl. Well…" He leaned closer again, this time close enough to have the skin of his lips just barely, _barely_ touch the cotton of my undershirt. "I'm pretty sure. I don't know your name, though. I had thought Christophe, but now that I can feel you under my fingertips, so many other names come to my mind… I don't know which one belongs to you."

He _had_ said Christophe, did he? I said Tolliver…. If I hadn't been half-unconscious, I would have wondered even more what the other names he had thought were.

"I don't know if I'll do a good job teaching you the things I'm supposed to teach you." Peeta swallowed audibly, leaning back away again, like a really slow rocking horse. "Maybe you'll bake. Maybe you'll hunt. It wouldn't matter. Maybe you'll do both. Maybe you'll have blond hair and an obvious idiocy problem. Maybe you'll look just like her, raven black hair and eyes like the stars, so beautiful..."

A lump had begun to next in my throat, formed from the simple splendor of Peeta's words, so lovely I could reach out and touch them, hold them. When he didn't speak again for several minute, I wanted to tell him to. _Talk some more. Talk me to sleep…_ But I needn't have asked; he continued from his other words as if there was not just an emptiness that had stretched on for an eternity, waiting to be filled by the air in his own lungs

"I know you'll look just like her." Peeta said almost _factually_ to my stomach, absentmindedly drawing another little circle around my naval. "I don't know if I'll be able to handle it, though. So much beauty in my life…" His warm, soft fingers found the edge of my undershirt and tugged it up, but only far enough to expose a small strip of my skin. Bending down, he gently pressed his lips against the private skin of my lower abdomen, right below the dip of my naval. Goosebumps stood out on my skin.

It wasn't even cold.

Apparently content with finishing his little heartfelt talk with the growing child inside of me, Peeta laid back down, stretching his self in a slightly curving half-moon shape around my own small body. The world let out a breath it had been holding, a sigh that tickled the coldest of nights with a taste of summer. Peeta had thought me asleep, but even though I was planning on falling the rest of the way soon, I needed to have him. One of my hands, still mostly asleep, sought out one of Peeta's own and wound their fingers together.

Peeta didn't hesitate squeezing back.

For a goodnight present, he scooted closer to me and brushed away the hair from the side of my neck before kissing it. "Sweet dreams, Katniss. I love you."

_I love you too_…

Sleep had already had me in its clutches.

**oOo**

_Holy buckets of mud, Batman. That was a LOOOOOOOONG chapter. Hoorah for finishing it! Hoped it was just _perfect _for those Peeta fans out there (oh, hell yeah), hope the fluff was very enjoyable, hope there wasn't any OOC-ness in it at all. Tell me your thoughts, mkay? It was probably too long. It was just about 10,000 words long, and the last one was only 3,000. I know I won't make the other chapters this long, but hopefully something like it. _

_As you may have possible picked up, I have another story that is a collection of poems that I've written (mostly about HG). I've been going through them, and decided that a few just may be worth repeating. So in that case, I'm going to put one up here in this A/N. _

_It's in Peeta's POV, but rather self-explanatory. ENJOY._

When I was young

I watched you through slotted eyes

As you lived,

As you breathed in the air of summer,

Knelt down to pick a flower

I envied you for

Having such a gift

Of making blind people

Stop and stare

Please forgive me,

Forgive the useless

Chaos of my heart

When I fall apart

Forgive my foolish ways

When all I'm trying to say

Is "I love you"

When I was young,

I wanted to get up the nerve

To talk to you,

Even walk with you

Across the playground yard,

When I was young,

And now I'm not

But why do I still feel the same?

Please forgive me.

Forgive my ignorance

Of thinking we were meant

To be together

Forgive the burden of my love

Weighing you down every

Step you take

I am still young,

And I still need to let you know

That I'm not perfect

My love is misshaped, but true

I have always wanted to hold you

Back to the sun, as the

Cold wind against us blew,

Let time fly by, my dear

Let us grow old and

Feel the dirt beneath our toes

Let us hold hands and never,

Ever let go

Because our lives are not over,

We still have a chance,

To take a last first dance

And be this young as we are today,

Forever


	4. Chapter 4

_June 2__nd_

_Two men stood in a room, light dim and would be menacing if it wasn't coming from the sun itself. The taller of the men was leaning against a desk, arms crossed over a well-built chest, while the shorter—with a buzz-cut and a harsh face—stood near the doorway._

_ "The hovercraft is ready, sir," said the man in the doorway, snapping a hand up to his forehead in a salute. "As are the team of eight I've readied."_

_ "Eight?" The taller cocked his head, displaying dull interest. "Isn't that a bit much?"_

_ "It's what you ordered, sir."_

_ "Very well, then." No arguing with that. Heaving a sigh, the man who was obviously in charge detached himself from the side of the desk. "You remember my orders, General? Only her."_

_ The General nodded his head once, briskly. "Yes, sir."_

_ "If necessary—which I know it most likely will be—him too. Anyone who gets in your way to her."_

_ "Yes, sir."_

_ "No intentional harming, though. The last mission you were sent on ended badly." The taller man walked around to the other side of the desk and picked up a flat piece of glass, wood framing around the rectangle. "No, don't hurt anyone. Especially not her."_

_ "Of course, sir. It will not happen again."_

_ "And please stop calling me sir. It makes me twitch."_

_ "Yes, sir."_

_ Letting out another sigh, the man in charge looked up from the cold rectangle he held again. "No breaking into her house, either. Or setting it on fire. No damage inflicted on anything, got it?"_

_ "Of course."_

_ "I expect it wouldn't be too difficult." He turned a pained look out the window behind him. Endless seas of evergreen trees lifted their spiky branches to scratch the cold, clear sky. "She'll do anything to keep the people she loves safe. When the time comes, a sacrifice will be made and there should be no problem taking her."_

_ "Yes, sir." The General didn't mind having so many restrictions on his job. He was loyal to his boss, and if following his directions meant having tea and crumpets with the girl while hopping up and down on one foot, he would have done it. Maybe. _

_ "Good luck, though." The taller man looked back at the rectangle, once again absorbed. "Be back in a few days. With her."_

_ Snapping another salute, the general said: "Yes, sir," and left the small room._

_ The mild sunlight in the room illuminated a sparkle of black hair, hanging from the grieving man's bowed head. He hoped it would work… He hoped, he dreamed. Dreamed of the girl. _

_ Sighing, he set down the rectangle and left the room as well._

_ A single beam of light shone down on the picture, propped up against a thick reference book. A picture of Katniss Everdeen (Mellark, actually, but that shouldn't be too hard to fix), holding a tiny baby in her arms and scowling at the camera. Almost…_

** KATNISS' POV**

_June 4__th___

_2:54 am_

I woke up from a strange noise in my dream. Though I knew it wasn't in my dream. Blearily opening my eyes, I peered around the room, disoriented. The basement was almost pitch black; all but one of the candles had gone out some time when we were sleeping. It only took me only a few seconds to remember what happened yesterday. And the strange noise wasn't making me feel any better.

Since I was laying on my side, back pressed up against Peeta's chest (his arms were around me), I had to squirm loose to sit up. "Peeta?"

He woke immediately, blinking in confusion up at me. "Are you okay?"

"I heard something," I whispered, feeling five years old again, when I used to wake up my father claiming there was something coming to get me. There was actually something to be afraid of this time, though.

Peeta sat up, getting alert quickly. He folded his hand over mine protectively, but we didn't dare breathe, just waiting, just listening.

There it was again… No wonder I woke up, because it was a muted _WHAM_ and a loud thud, as if something—or some_one_—was trying to cover it up. Although it was slightly different from the last noise I heard, it was still there.

At the sound, Peeta's eyes flew wide. When I opened my mouth to say something, he shushed me, straining his ears again.

Yes, there was definitely something upstairs. A pair of footsteps could be heard, but then a light **thud** and another pair joined that one. Soon, it was obvious we were far from alone in the house.

Shaking his head around furiously, Peeta's eyes dashed all around the room frantically, searching for _something_. He had begun shaking, I felt.

A new kind of fear was making its way inside of me, a kind more fiery and real than last night. To see them creeping around in our backyard was one thing. Having them _in our house_, trapping us in the basement was another. My instincts told me to run, do whatever I can to get free of the corner and escape, but who knows what would happen to me if I step foot out of the basement?

There was another loud thud—these were the noisiest ninjas I've ever come across to in my years—and a sharp rattling at the top of the basement stairs.

Peeta cursed again, once and quiet, shaking even more violently, he yanked me upright and we hurdled into the basement bathroom, with nowhere else to go. A sputter of yellow light and the candle went out, dousing our world in bitter darkness. The bathroom door swung halfway closed behind us, but he gave me no chance to close it before dragging me clumsily behind the shower curtain as soon as his blind fingers found it. My heart slammed viciously against my ribcage. _No, no, no, leave us alone_, I wanted to whimper in fright. No sound came, though, as I curled into a fetal position in the bathtub.

Peeta had his arms around me tightly—too tight, it hurt me, but I just shrank closer, pressing us into the smallest amount of mass. He was trembling and his breath was ragged and as scared as I felt, but it was obvious he was trying to stay quiet.

The pounding from upstairs grew louder, until a great splintering crash sounded and burst the quiet air as the door to the basement came hurdling down the stairs in a flurry of splinters. This time I let out a noise, by accident, but it was terrified and unrestrained. Peeta clamped his hand over my mouth, pressing my lips painfully against my teeth. An irony taste covered my tongue. Together, we shrank into an even tighter space against the cold ceramic tub.

Like icy fingers, terror took hold of my chest and dug in, raking huge scars into my lungs. A roaring had taken up in my ears, loud and dead silent at the same time. And with every ticking second that dragged by, I could hear it. Footsteps treading lightly over the dirty stairs. I could just _see_ the figure in my mind, body lithe and black, silhouetted head tilted to the air, as if he was sniffing the air, trying to catch the scent of fear.

If my pounding heart didn't give us away, I don't know what would. It held a sliver of comfort, though, to feel Peeta's chest thudding as hard as mine was. I wasn't the only one scared out of my mind.

The footsteps came closer. Soon, they'd be in the bathroom, watching their pray cower, in a cold harshness of the washtub. Laughing. _Clop, clop, clop_. Quietly treading feet getting nearer and nearer. My head felt bloated with fear, pressing my eyes into the backs of my skull. _Please no, please no…_

They stopped right outside the half-open bathroom door. Why didn't we close the damn thing? Peeta's hand did not yield on my mouth. In fact, he squeezed me closer. My lungs were no longer able to expand, but that was okay. I wouldn't be able to breathe anyway. I could almost _feel_ my ribs cracking.

It felt like an eternity the mystery person stood there outside the bathroom door. Perhaps he was inside. What made him stop? Was he taunting us? Did he know we were in here? If so, he could just stroll in and pluck us right up. Every heart beat of mine was like the tolling of a great clock.

We waited.

It could have been a week later when there was finally some kind of sign from outside from the person. A hesitant footstep backwards, then a long sigh. It sounded not evil, or joyous, or even malicious. It sounded…disappointed. Maybe even regret added in. Slowly, they retreated back across the room and up the stairs, no longer trying to keep their stride noiseless. Were they…?

I was still stuck, frozen. Still, neither Peeta nor I moved.

When we could hear the footfall on the first floor again, there was a disturbance. Of course, we knew already that there were more than three people, but when we heard the voices—upset by the sound of it—it was obvious there was _way_ more than three. Nine, maybe. Or ten. It sounded as though they were arguing, but the specific words were inaudible. It was more like buzzing in the very backs of our eardrums.

And they left. Just like that, they left. Footsteps wandered to the right of the first floor and vanished, with a few of the men—they _were_ men—cursing loudly, kicking things over in anger. The second they were gone, Peeta's grip relaxed all the way, arms sliding away from me like ropes, exhausted from the many years of kissing the necks of convicts. He let out a choked noise, and begun crying quietly into my hair.

Don't cry, please don't—

I was crying, too. In the squat metal tub, I managed to slide onto my stomach and put my arms around Peeta's shoulders as best as I could, comforting him, even though there were tears on my own face. Hands gripped the material of my shirt, pulling me close to him, but not in a passionate way. Just like this was the first time he'd held me in years. Might as well have been. We just escaped certain end. End to what, I wasn't sure. But end most definitely.

Both of us were quivering, muscles deciding not to move for another, oh, decade.

Peeta's tears were cold. "…I thought I was going to lose you," he whispered against my neck, light gasps tickling the tiny hairs down my back. "Both of you."

I didn't know what to say to that. I was still frozen in shock, unable to feel anything but the arms around me, unable to hear anything over the raging drum of my heart, unable to taste anything but the fear still raw in my throat. I was getting pulled back slowly, but the last five minutes (it _did _all happened within only five minutes, believe it or not) put everything into perspective. Of course, it scared me more than anything. I found myself more afraid then than I ever had been in my life. Not in the Games when I almost died or when I watched Rue die or when I watched Gale being whipped or in the Quell, not any of those times.

I was afraid because of the child inside of me.

Peeta and I stayed put for a while, wrapped in each other, trying to share whatever strength we had left to stop the open taps in our eyes. In fact, it took another good half an hour before I was able to lift my head from Peeta's chest and swallow.

"Do you think they're gone for good?" My voice was a hoarse whisper.

Peeta's bitter laugh scared me. "Of course not."

A small choking noise burbled from my mouth.

"But we have a few hours, at most." He closed his eyes for a moment, and when they opened again, he swept my hair back with a sort of desperate tenderness. Wetness prickled his eyes again, and a pained grimace appeared, creasing his forehead. "…I don't know what to do."

I was at a loss for words, mostly because he seemed to be in physical agony. It was horrible to watch, pearls of saltwater tracing vertical lines down his cheeks, one after another, soaking all hopelessness that sat on his chin, dragging the corners of my husband's mouth down. Trying to swallow the lump in my throat, I reached both of my hands up to cup his wet face.

"There's still hope," I said to him, but not believing it myself. "If we manage to make it to District Thirteen—"

"The train station is closed, Katniss," Peeta nearly _wailed,_ scrambling to sit up. "We can't—"

"Just _shut up_," I snapped at him harshly, smacking his chest none too lightly. "Saying things like that gets us nowhere. We'll walk, if we have to. Run. It's a half-hour ride there on a hovercraft. If we go five miles an hour, then we'll be able to get there in less than twenty-four hours. Not _all_ is lost."

He was gritting his teeth, avoiding my gaze with steely, upset slate eyes—a completely new look for him.

"Peeta."

He still didn't look at me.

I took my finger to turn his head towards me. Yet another tear fell. I couldn't find the words I wanted, though. I took a few minutes of keeping Peeta's mournful gaze that I managed to speak.

"We'll call Mother, and go from there." I took my hand away from his face and eased my shaking body out of the bathtub. Even though my limbs hissed and sputtered like an old, broken car, resisting all efforts of movement, I managed to pull myself into an upright position and turn back to face Peeta. He was still laying there.

Biting my lip, I held a hand down to him. It was hard trying to be strong—or at least, stronger than him. I wasn't feeling upset or even particularly superior over him at that moment. Considering all that was happening, though, one of us had to grin and bear it, and I didn't blame Peeta for feeling what he was feeling. We all go through that moment of pure terror that seem to fold us inside-out, that freeze our usual selves and let something else kick in, whether instinct or not. All I knew was that he never blinked twice whenever I lost step, so I wasn't even considering that. Didn't even cross my mind.

"Come on, Peeta." My voice remained smooth—and perhaps even coaxing—as I offered my hand down a little further. He just stared up at me in pain. "Come on."

Finally, his shivering fingers wrapped around mine and I pulled him into an upright position, in which I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his chest. At times like these, sometimes I wished that I could have been a little closer to his height to make it easier comforting him, but this time was just right. I let Peeta tuck his chin on the top of my head and snake his arms around me, using the small shape of my body to curl around and lean into.

"I'm sorry," he whispered finally, after several long minutes of trying to breathe properly. His hands—which were barely shaking at all then—stroked the curve of my spine, brushing back strands of my hair with a now gentle touch. Peeta had his head bent so where his lips were just barely touching my neck, and as he spoke, I could feel the vibrations of his throat against mine. "I'll try and keep myself together better."

"We all have those moments." I pressed my lips to his cheek and pulled away, still keeping hold of both his hands. "It's alright."

Peeta shook his head at me, as if he pitied my point of view of things like this. "Not really, but what's done is done. Now let's go call your mother before they come back." He squeezed my hand reassuringly, back to the way he was. Strong and sturdy as he flicked on the bathroom light (my eyes screamed and watered in the blinding orange beam) and led us out of the dim bathroom that had been our prison just a few minutes ago.

I wasn't prepared to see past the shade of my own eyes. The basement, though not in complete ruins, was a definite mess. The door, which had been a solid, thick mahogany, was laying in pieces all across the room. Various sizes of splinters littered the floor, ranging from the side of my calf to the size of a needle. It was almost macabre, looking at the remnants. A bloody fight, remains of the loser smearing dead footprints along the floor, the last traces there was a fight at all.

My heart almost went out to that poor, inanimate object that had so faithfully tried keeping the ninjas away from me and Peeta.

Peeta whistled, low and long. "I don't know if a normal human could bash a door up like that, even if it _did_ get hurdled down a flight of stairs thirty feet up."

"Maybe he had some sort of…bat," I said unsurely, doubting my own words. Suddenly, I could look at the scene anymore. Turning my head away from it, I quickly tugged him in the direction of the stairs. "Let's go,"

Although we _did_ ascend the stairs, Peeta insisted on being first, brandishing one of the two hunting knives in our possession.

As we gently stepped over the broken frame leading out of the basement, I came to realize the full impact the break-in had done on our house, breaking in at such an early time with no warning. Tables were turned, lamps shattered across the floor. One solitary light was turned on above the front door, which was also smashed inwards, crushed on the landing. The large, gothic-styled window I had once loved that had been embedded into the door was in pieces—just like everything else.

I sucked in a short gasp, momentarily pressing my side against Peeta's. His face seemed pulled tight in an aggrieved look, but he said nothing as he kept leading the way. We picked our ways across the long living room, stepping over bits of glass and wood, all the way to the phone in the entrance on the other side of the room.

According to Peeta, he had locked all of the doors in close proximity. The doorknob to the kitchen appeared to have been punched out, and the slab of now-useless wood hung limply on its hinges. Was…was our fridge raided? Do these people have no _dignity_?

Face remaining twisted and fidgety with apprehension, Peeta dialed the number for the house next to ours—my mother's—and held the phone up as it connected. He was offering it to me, but I shook my head, throat closing up. Soon I'd get over with the delayed reaction and start freaking out majorly. Our house had just gotten broken into by freakishly badass ninjas, and Peeta and I nearly gotten dragged off—just like the seven other victors that stood no chance. How we managed, it was beyond me.

I shook my head again.

Peeta shrugged and swallowed noticeably before putting the receiver to his ear.

The other end rang fifteen times, before automatically hanging up. Peeta dialed for a second time, but got an answer after the fourth ring. I could hear, too.

"Is everything alright?" Mother's voice said tiredly, obvious she had just woken up.

There was a pause from our end, trying to sort out the right things to say.

"Hello, Ms. Everdeen." Peeta had never gotten used to calling her 'Mother', despite her constant assurance. "There had been an…issue here."

The tone of voice used immediately made Mother's fatigued demeanor melt. "What's wrong, Peeta? Is Katniss okay?"

"She's fine, but our house isn't." Peeta proceeded to explain what happened, muting the worst of the worst parts so where they didn't sound as horrible as they really were. "…I hope we didn't disturb you too much, Ms. Everdeen."

Surprisingly, Mother didn't even try to correct him. Tiny, barely audible noises of disbelief were coming from the phone, but I didn't think it was the static. She had to take several breaths before being able to talk. "…I-I don't want to wake them… But-but can I come see? Survey the…damage?"

Have fun with that, I thought bitterly, but didn't say anything. It felt like my mouth was going to be in a frown for the rest of my life.

"Be careful," Peeta said quietly, eyebrows creased. "They might still be out there."

"Can I talk to Katniss, Peeta? Is she there?"

"Yeah, here." He pressed the telephone into my hand with a supportive smile. It seemed too tight to be real, though.

I put the receiver to my lips and said in a shaky voice: "Hello, Mother."

"You stay safe, honey. I'll be right over."

I had never been happier to hear my mother's voice. "Okay."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

There was a click from the other end of the line, and I hung up the plastic device with shaking fingers.

A cold second passed, and then another before Peeta puts his arms around me from the side and pulls me against his chest. I could smell the faint starchy smell of flour and bread and other such things that he spent so much time with, I could smell the lemon shampoo that sent his sandy hair into a crackly of clean static electricity, I could smell the still-raw shock on his skin in the form of a sudden cold sweat.

I breathed in warmth he provided and tried not to think of what is going to happen. Our house was…well, half-obliterated. We'd have to buy new doors and windows and the little tables and lamps… Not to mention how I'm never going to sleep again, in fear of ninjas coming and dragging me away by my hair in the middle of the night when I'm sleeping.

Peeta held me until Mother got there, about two minutes after the call. The crunch of the broken glass underfoot on the front porch made me pull away and stare through sad eyes as she walked. My mother was still in her nightclothes, a scraggly grey-blond braid swinging out from the back of her head. She had on a horrified look as she slowly stepped through the glass and wood until we were within touching distance.

Watery blue eyes turned slowly from the wrecked ground to me.

Her arms went around my neck, cold tears pouring from her eyes. "Oh, I'm so glad you're okay… You're not hurt, are you?" Quaking like a sheet of autumn rain, Mother pulled away from my neck and did a quick examination, patting my shoulders for dislocations (or something like that) and then feeling down to my stomach. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," I reassured her, not knowing if that was true or not. I put my hands over her soft, wrinkled ones. "I'm fine, Mother. Peeta…he took care of me." The last sentence was spoken quieter, almost as if I was embarrassed to speak them.

I wasn't.

Mother blinked once and then put her arms around Peeta as well. She was quite a bit smaller than him, thinner and more delicate. It almost looked unreal seeing such a fragile-looking aged woman embracing Peeta—a strong, wiry teenage boy who had on the face of a man.

"Thank you, Peeta. Really," her voice sounded sore, but the words were strong. "Thank you for taking care of my daughter…"

Peeta's azure irises swept over to me and he looked nothing if not proud. "Don't thank me. I'm just doing my job."

"It's no _job_," Mother said as if was completely obvious, and she pulled away from him, wiping her cheeks. As I had expected, she didn't elaborate.

_You're right_…. _I live to be with her… _I could hear it in the gentle touch of his fingers on my wrist. It wasn't like he hadn't spoken to me before.

He had.

I squeezed back.

After only a few more seconds of standing in the same spot and turning her head around a little, my mother cleared her throat. "You're going to have to stay in one of the guest rooms."

Peeta said, "What if they come back?" the moment I said, "I'm not putting you, Prim and Annie in danger like that."

"I don't think they'll come twice in one night…" She had on an odd face, and I was surprised to hear something like that coming from Mother. She always thinks of the worst possible outcome, but I wouldn't consider her a pessimist. Just…careful. "If we don't sleep the entire day, I think it'll be okay."

Peeta had on his thoughtful face, eyebrows furrowed & bottom lip caught between his teeth. He put his arm around my waist. "…I wouldn't want to risk anything."

Mother shook her head. "And I _do_?"

This went on for a while. Mostly between my husband and my mother, we debated about whether or not it was safe for us to be in their house. Slowly, I could tell my mother's side was winning. It was clear Peeta and I couldn't go back to sleep _here_, at least not until we put in new doors and windows. Almost disgruntle admitting it, Peeta pointed out that the "ninjas" _must_ have done something wrong. The way that they so confidently broke all our doors down and shattered the contents of our house, and then just left, cursing and upset. If they were upset about not finding us, it just might have been a little louder or at least directed towards us, not the ground.

"I'm not arguing this anymore." Mother wrinkled her nose and shook her head defiantly. "You've nowhere to go for tonight, so take the room next to the master. It has no windows, and it's in the harder-to-access part of the house. We'll work something out in the morning."

_Fine_, said Peeta's face, but I knew he was just happy to get this over with.

Both of us still had our knives with us, actually. Mine was where I had fallen asleep with it—tied firmly into the waistband of my pajama bottoms (no one laughed, thank goodness. It must have been an odd sight). The second we started walking out the front door (or where the door _used_ to be) Peeta's knife just appeared in his left hand, _my_ left in his other. Cautiously, we stepped outside into the dark.

It was warm out for a June night. No stars shone through the freshly blanketed sky, holding out what little light they provided. I didn't mind. A single florescent light was on in my mother's house, visible from the kitchen window. Hopefully everyone was still asleep. I didn't want anyone's regular pattern disturbed at my fault. Of course, it wasn't really mine, but…

"Why don't you two get some sleep," Mother said after we got inside, locking the front door behind her. "We'll get up bright and early tomorrow to discuss what we're going to do next."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep again for a while…" I muttered to myself, sighing at the floor.

Peeta kissed my temple. "No harm in trying, though."

Only pausing to give my mother a quick goodnight hug and reassure her I'd be safe, I dragged my cement feet off to the bedroom she was talking about and sat on the edge, my cold fingers curled around the hilt of the knife.

"Really, Katniss, you should at least _try_ to sleep." Peeta sat with his back against the headboard of the bed, eyeing me sympathetically.

"Are you?"

He frowned. "…No."

"Then neither am I."

His eyes rolled with exasperation.

So we sat. My head rested on his shoulder, our hands wrapped around each other's. Though tiredness tried to pull my eyelids down over my dilated pupils, I forced them to stay open. Sadly, it only worked for about an hour before both Peeta and I went crashing into a state of uneasy slumber.

I don't know what time it was when my head snapped up suddenly, a violent cramping pain shooting down my neck. A sheen of shivery sweat wrapped my body up in a cloak, and for a few seconds, nothing could be heard other than my heartbeat. Slowly, I realized that nothing was wrong. A nightmare still swam tauntingly fresh in my mind.

My abrupt movement made Peeta wake up, too.

He was alert at once, gripping my hand and staring around the room. "Where—?" His eyes flicked, afraid, to the door, and then to me. Upon seeing my mostly-unperturbed expression, he seemed to deflate.

"Sorry to wake you," I said quietly, sinking an inch further into the pillows against him. "Nothing's wrong."

Peeta let out a sigh that seemed mixed with relief, exhaustion and exasperation. "You scared me."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He pressed his cheek on the top of my head briefly. "Do you know what time it is?"

There was a small analog clock on the bedside stand. It took only once glance at it to read 5:30am. I told this to Peeta, and he let out yet another heavy sigh.

"We might as well get up…"

The fatigue in his soul was obvious, bending his wiry body into a half-circle. Blue streaks were painted like butterflies on his face, standing out among the pale of Peeta's skin. The weight of the world was forced to be dragged with every step away, breaking his shoulders all the while. When I got my legs working, I walked beside him, pressing the side of my body against his, lifting a fraction of that weight off.

My clothes felt grimy and stiff, even though I had only spent one night in them. It was no surprise, though, considering the films of sweat that had layered my skin countless times in the past few hours.

I was wearing my undershirt and a pair of Peeta's pajama pants.

Peeta was still shirtless.

No one seemed to care. And apparently, they all had the chance. When we dragged our worn-out selves into the kitchen, everyone was there to greet us. And by everyone, I meant _everyone_. Haymitch, Mother, Annie (with Jace), Primrose, Caroline, and little red-headed Ivy. That second our footsteps faltered to absorb the scene before us was all needed for Ivy to spring out of her seat and hurdle herself into my arms.

"CANISS!" She giggled maniacally and dug her tiny fingernails into the bare skin of my shoulder. "G'morning, sweepyhead!"

"Good morning, Ivy." As always, I relaxed a bit with her in my arms, and patted the corduroy material of her little burgundy dress. "How are you doing?"

Ivy giggled again. "Good." Her attention flicked over to Peeta next to me, and her reaction was priceless. At first, her eyebrows puckered in confusion, and then she gave a comical 4-year-old groan. "Oh no, Peeta, where your shirt?"

Even though the gathering was not meant to be entirely carefree and happy, everyone there gave a small snort of laughter.

I didn't bother explaining anything to the little girl before I put her back in her mother's arms.

Caroline put her hand over mine as I sat down (Peeta on my left side, Caroline on my right, Mother right across from me, and Prim and Haymitch on either side of her, Annie sitting between Prim and Caroline). She looked like she aged ten years since the last time I'd seen her. "Are you okay, Katniss?"

I allowed myself a long pause before answering unsteadily, "For now. Shook up, of course, but I'm okay."

At that moment, my mother shifted a little uncomfortably and cleared her throat. "I hope you don't mind," she said to me, a flush appearing on her creased, pale cheeks, "but I…I told her. Caroline. I told her about your…condition. You probably wanted to tell her yourself but…" Her face was apologetic. "Sorry, honey."

That would explain Caroline's expression…

My mouth pulled up at the corners in an attempt of a smile. "I don't mind. It's fine, Mother." Though the smiled failed, the feeling was still there.

So that would mean everyone in this room knew. Haymitch—who look tired and ill-suited for being around anything other than his own garbage—knew. Primrose—who seemed on edge, but happy to see me and Peeta, still wearing a sweet pair of lacy cream pajamas that seemed two sizes too big for her—knew. Annie—still in a heavy white nightgown, chocolate hair done up in a sweeping braid, clutching a little bundle of sleeping baby—knew.

I wasn't sure if Ivy knew, though. If she did, she surely didn't show it. Poor child must not know anything about what we were doing here all in our pajamas, worried and jumpy. She sang a carefree tune to her glass of juice, unaware of the events happening around her.

When no one spoke for a few minutes, Primrose sighed gently.

"I _do_ wish you would have woken me up when they came, Mother," she said lightly, a pout to her bottom lip. "I wouldn't have minded."

"It's not that, dear." Our parent didn't say anything but that.

Haymitch seemed to have nothing to say, too. He just kept on leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, wearing a face of pain. It could have been just the alcohol, or maybe hearing what happened last night upset him. Again, I didn't know.

Between the eight of us, only a fraction of the breakfast Mother made us was consumed. Neither Peeta nor I ate any—our insides felt twisted and dried up—and everyone else's appetite seemed a little off except Ivy's. She shoveled down her syrup-saturated pancakes without a care in the world. When she finally shoved the plate away, thoroughly smeared with sticky sugar and groaning, someone cleared his throat.

"So what are we planning on doing about this 'problem'?" Haymitch's bloodshot eyes were on me, his fingers absentmindedly picking at the corner of his first, uneaten pancake. "You've got crazed, mysterious, black-clothed ninjas out to get you. That's never a good thing."

He sounded as though he didn't believe our story, which had obviously been told to him by Mother.

Prim's lovely face twisted into an upset frown at my old mentor. "You saw her house, Haymitch, you know it's true. Stop acting so sour."

My old mentor just raised his eyebrows at her.

Mother didn't seem to like the arguing, but her lips just pursed as she cleared her throat. "We _do_ need to think about what to do next. What exactly happened last night isn't as relevant as the fact that something _did_ happen, and Katniss and Peeta aren't safe here."

"Where can they go?" Haymitch put his hand on the table and leaned forwards. "The station is down, and they obviously can't go out into the woods. That would be ten times worse than staying here."

Peeta glanced quickly at me. I could read through the glimmer in his eyes what he was thinking, but now that I was fully awake, I wasn't sure it was such a great idea. Peeta didn't catch my warning look before turning back to the debating adults. "We'd thought about going to District 13."

"Are you mad?"

"That's not safe!"

"You aren't thinking about _walking_ there, are you?"

"Absolutely not!"

"That'd take _days_."

Everyone started talking at once, scowls and startled looks and furrowed brows were thrown at me and Peeta like bricks, hitting hard. I was bashed down automatically, shrinking an inch down into the chair under the weight of everyone's words. Peeta, however, deflected them with a wave of his hand.

"Katniss had it all worked out, actually," he said. "The hovercrafts get to and from here in about thirty minutes, right?" When everyone just blinked at him, he sighed. "Right?"

Haymitch would know, and he did. Coughing lightly into his fist, he nodded once. "Right. Twenty-five, actually."

"And they travel at around two-hundred miles an hour, right?"

That was fast…

Again, Haymitch nodded.

Peeta's face lit up in a defiant smirk, and he leaned back in his chair. "That means it's about just one hundred miles there, right?"

"…Yeah."

"So if Katniss and I go at a minimum of five miles an hour, we'll get there under twenty hours."

Mother's eyes glinted with menacingly parental love. She stood up and leaned forwards on both hands, which were planted firmly on the table. "Twenty hours in which you'll be alone, in the middle of the woods, practically defenseless, with eight potential murderers after you who are obviously professional, to a destination a hundred miles from here without even a MAP. Twenty hours if you know where you're going and go five miles an hour non-stop. There are _too many_ risks."

"I'll have my bow," I said, feeling subconsciously insulted. Did she not think me strong enough to handle myself?

Annie spoke this time. She passed Jace to Prim, stood up and put on a brave, yet feisty clench to her jaw. "They took Finnick. There's no doubt they could take you two."

My voice rose automatically, standing up as well, prepared to argue this to the end. "_Finnick _wasn't armed. He can use a _trident. _I can kill from a distance _easily_."

"Don't think you're so much stronger than the rest of us, Katniss." The bravado was slipping from the other girl's voice. Tears were swelling in the corners of Annie's beautiful green eyes. "You talk like you'd be able to kill someone after all that's happened, but it doesn't work that way. I've gone through the Hunger Games too, you forgot. I've seen things, too. I've had my heart broken, too. I've killed people, too."

My chest was ripping, slowly but surely.

Annie took another deep breath. "I've lost just as much as you, Katniss. Maybe even more. I lost my entire family. Jace is all I have left now. No matter how strong you think this ordeal has made you, it's not strong enough. The only thing the Hunger Games teaches you is true fear, which puts everything else into a dangerous perspective. Even though you aren't in the Capitol's arena, Katniss, you're still in _life_. There are still risks, and no matter was size of chance something bad will happen, it's not worth it." She seemed to wither back into herself, slumping onto her seat once more. "I don't want to lose you and Peeta, after everyone else."

The air began leaking out of my lungs like a punctured balloon. Her utterances were all it took to rip a gaping hole in my chest, making self-loathing and regret and guilt spill out onto the floor in a hypothetical pile of my soul. My vision blurred and my limbs grew numb with remorse. My mouth opened and closed with words that wouldn't come.

"Katniss…"

Shut _up_, Peeta. Don't talk to me. Don't even look at me. I'm not worth it. I'm not worth _anything_. I was being selfish… No, _no_. That is the _last_ thing I want to be. I can't be, I'm not—

"I'm not selfish," I whispered to myself through a throat of sandpaper, avoiding anyone's gaze.

Peeta slipped his hand around mine, which had been clenched in a fist. Strength found its way inside of me through his warmth and I managed to lift my head.

"I have someone else to think about."

Eyes automatically turned to shirtless young man sitting beside me, though I shook my head.

"Not Peeta." Now was no time for denying anything. I didn't even have the strength to deny anyways. I winced at the eyes boring into mine again. "…The life inside of me."

A yellow tear fell onto Annie's nose and everyone else's faces turned pained and, in a way, beautiful. Like a gruesome painting you'd find in an old, neglected house of a wealthy window. So beautiful yet so horrible.

Ivy just looked perplexed.

"If I get caught, who knows what'll happen once I have the kid. If they'll let me have it at all, that is."

They knew what I meant.

"You're having a baby, Caniss?" Ivy's dark red eyebrows were creased on her forehead and she was blinking in confusion at my stomach, which was most obviously not at the birthing point.

"Not now, honey," I said gently to her. "Later."

"Oh." She settled back in her momma's arms to look at me expectantly again.

I sighed, and continued. "We all agree that either way, they are perfectly capable of capturing me and Peeta. Running or staying. So it makes very little difference what we do, there's still a high chance we're going to get captured anyways, correct?"

Everyone except Prim and Ivy nodded (after hesitating for a millisecond).

What a bunch of friggin' pessimists.

Blowing out a huge, displeased breath, I sat down heavily in the hard wooden chair. "Well, we still need a plan. I spoke mine, if anyone has any better ideas…"

A long silence followed.

Ivy left to use the restroom.

She came back a few minutes later.

She sat.

We waited.

Primrose chewed on the end of her fingernail and glanced up at me uncertainly. "We could…keep you hidden? Until they leave?"

I swallowed, but the effort seemed to get stuck halfway down. "I don't want to cower. I'm done hiding, playing defense."

Peeta squeezed my hand very gently, trying to soothe my currently harsh mien. "We obviously can't act as offense against a force we don't even know, Katniss."

Our eyes met, deep blue against light grey, soft against hard. I spoke quietly. "Then let's not play the game."

Cynical frown. "What do you mean?"

"Let's pack up some food, weapons, head out straight to District 13. No stopping, no resting. Go straight there. If they come, we deal with them. Just get to Thirteen, and from there we can formulate a better plan." I swept my gaze over the rest of my family—Haymitch, Mother, Primrose, Annie, Jace, Caroline, Ivy, Peeta. "Twenty hours is longer than it should be, but we _do_ have an advantage. We know they're after us. We don't leave tracks, we'll sleep in trees if we need to sleep at all, we'll always be on the lookout, we'll be _fast_. It's not much, but it's better than sitting up in bed waiting for them to come and carry us off."

Annie wasn't the only one scarred with tears now. Primrose had pearls on her cheeks as well, along with Mother and Caroline. Ivy had her mouth open in confused hurt. Haymitch just looked sad.

"You can leave, Katniss." Mother's voice was rough with the gravel of sadness.

"We can't _stay_."

Another silence.

I looked over at Peeta again. "You've been rather quiet. Anything to say?"

_Everything to say_, his eyes told me. His mouth said something else. "No. You've said it all."

At that point, my mother stood up and left the room.

Also at that point, Ivy hopped off of Caroline's legs and got lifted onto mine.

"Why is everyone sad, Caniss?" Ivy asked quietly, face somber and begging.

Mine felt begging, too. I sighed, tucking her tiny, red-headed self against my chest. "Some very bad people are here. They took Uncle Finnick. Now they want to take me and Peeta."

Ivy gasped. "Why?"

"That, I don't know." My cheek pressed against the stop of her head. "But everyone's sad because Peeta and I have to leave. We're running away from those bad guys, running to safety."

The little girl pulled away from my arms, face pulled into a defiant, suspicious and troubled look. "You're goin' away?"

"Yes, Ivy."

"For how long?"

"I don't know, Ivy."

She narrowed her eyes at me as if judging whether I was telling the truth or not, and when she didn't find what she was looking for, her celery-colored eyes flicked over to Peeta.

He ducked his head in one sullen nod.

Now Ivy was crying, too. She started whimpering, great fat tears rolling their way down her soft, impressionable face. Her short arms wrapped themselves around my waist and she stained my undershirt with saltwater, wails muffled by the cloth. "Don't go, Caniss! _Please_ don't go!"

"Ivy…" I sucked in a breath, trying to suck back in my own snuffles, but to no avail. Pieces of light danced as they fell from my face onto the cherry hair of this four-year-old whom I loved so much. Noiseless sobs quaked my shoulders.

I didn't bother looking up to see if Peeta had broken down, too. As soon as I began crying, he was standing from his chair, bringing me and Ivy up with him. His arms provided a shelter to hide from the world. Slowly, Caroline drifted up from her chair to come and slip her thin arms around the three of us. Prim joined, too, sneaking her small body into the circle of my embrace.

Haymitch was the only one who didn't stand. His eyes were narrowed in great sorrow. All he said was two words:

"I'm sorry."

Those two words shook the room like thunder.

Lightning cracked where quiet followed, splitting the group up as quickly as it had formed. Caroline took Ivy to clean up in the bathroom, after mucus had coated the girl's upper lip. Primrose pulled a small burlap pack from a cupboard high above her head. Peeta washed his hands and pulled out a plastic container of pre-made bread dough. There was no question about what was happening. They were preparing. No one had even said, "Okay, yeah, you two are leaving." They hadn't agreed on our plan. They just…_did_.

I left in silence, determined to heal at least _one_ thing gone wrong here. Maybe not heal, but help.

I found Mother in her room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, dried tears scratchy on her perfectly white cheekbones, body curved over a picture she was holding.

Wordlessly, I walked over and sat next to her.

"….It's just like the Games all over," my mother whispered after some time. "Losing you a second time…"

"No, Mother." I swallowed. The picture she was holding was one of me and Peeta. It must have been taken just a few weeks ago, though I did not recall it. "Nothing like the Games. This time I have a chance. A very good chance, with food and an advantage over the enemy and less than a day of danger."

Her watery blue eyes locked onto mine. "The same to a parent. Losing you all over again. Sending you out, not knowing what will be waiting… If something happens to you—to _either_ of you—it might as well have been me just killing you."

"Don't talk like that," I scolded her. "Nothing that happens to us is your fault, you understand?"

She didn't.

"Don't blame yourself for _anything_."

"It'll still be my fault for letting you go…"

I let out a sigh. "If it'll make you feel any better, you could just tell me not to go and I'll go anyway. That way it wouldn't be your fault. If anything happens, it'll be purely my own overconfident stupidity."

A ghost of a smile touched my mother's weathered lips. "Thank you, Katniss, but it wouldn't." She stood up, setting the photograph back onto her nightstand. When she began walking out of the room, I frowned.

"What are you doing?"

She smiled again. "The least I can."

**oOo**

_Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I really have to stop doing this. SO…MANY…WORDS… *__gag choke__* Oh well. What did you guys think about this chapter? Pretty awesome, right? I sure hope. Again, please tell me if I'm doing anything wrong. OOC-ness, too long, too short (a short NOVEL you mean)… Stuff like that. Tell me. I know this chapter ended weird, but only because I had to chop off a good 1,500 words and shove it into the beginning of the next chapter._

_So we all know Katniss is now Peeta's darling baby-mama. And yet, there is a problem. I seem to be unable to make up my mind for the kid's name. Since I'm enlisting all of your help, I'll give away one detail—it's a boy. I shouldn't have said THAT much, but too late, so now you HAVE to help. In my head there is a good few names, but I need a combination for first and middle. My names:_

Rowan

Oliver

Tolliver (Katniss' favorite in "Gravity")

Christophe (Peeta's favorite in "Gravity")

Alyxander (Xander)

Redd

_There are those names, but feel free to add one or two from your own "favorite name" list. If it was a girl, I would DEFINITELY name her Aprilynn, because that is the prettiest girl name ever (*hint hint* I don't want any girl names).My favorite combinations of those names are Rowan Oliver Mellark, Alyxander Christophe Mellark, and Tolliver Rowan Mellark. If you know a better combo, TELL ME. :D:D (And might I add, "rowan" is a kind of plant. In the dictionary it's described as "the mountain-ash")_

_Love you all SOOO much, and don't forget to review! Have a nice Halloween and such. (: _


	5. Chapter 5

_What a nice day for an abduction, don't you think? The sky is the color of milk, the trees are shivering with the new winter season … Such a wonderful, crisp day. Perfect, if you ask me, for something to go horribly wrong. _

_Thank you for all the wonderful things said about last chapter. They did amuse me so. :D:D but for now, read! Katniss and Peeta are waiting…_

**oOo**

In an hour we were ready to go. It was 7:35 in the morning, and my heart had never felt heavier. Everyone was fully clothed in normal day-wear, and the "goodbye"s were hovering above us, waiting to be spoken. A small pack was strapped to my back, containing a bottle of water, a loaf of bread, two apples, a medium-size piece of meat, and two hunting knives (a third was strapped in the belt of trousers I'd changed into). Peeta was standing next to me, looking surely and resolute, with a backpack of his own (holding extra clothes, a thin sleeping bag, and another water bottle). Our family stood around us, not daring to say anything for a while.

Ivy spoke first. She stepped forwards and pulled a small length of white ribbon from her hair. I recognized that ribbon. Blinking—without tears this time—Ivy handed it to me. "Hold your hair back."

It was a gift back to me, a gift that meant more than anything else could possibly.

Fighting back another fit, I reached back to tie the ribbon tightly around the end of my dark, long braid. When my hands dropped back down to my sides, I knelt to the little girls' height. "Ivy…"

She hugged me.

I held the wisp of a girl in my arms for a minute, thinking instead of how strong she was for a four-year-old. A strong young lady who'd be very upset if I didn't come home.

Releasing a cold sigh against her neck, I pulled away from Ivy. "You be a good girl for your Momma, okay honey?"

Ivy nodded.

"Good." I pecked her softly on the top of her red curls and pulled her up to Peeta's arms.

Peeta held onto her tightly. I could see his eyes closed against her tiny curved shoulder. When he drew away, there were tears of love in his eyes. "I'll see you later, Ivy."

"You promise?" She had her lower lip sticking out again.

Peeta kissed each of her freckled cheeks. "I promise."

Ivy nodded solemnly and climbed back down from his arms. How simple it must be to have a promise and believe with all your heart that person wouldn't dare break it. She walked over to her mother and stood there in front, motionless and quiet once more.

Next it was Primrose. She was visibly trying to hold herself together. For a moment all I could see was the shine of her blond curls as we held each other for a moment. She was the one to pull her arms back away, and when she did, there was a strange look in her eyes. They shined, not only with tears but with affection and hope. "Come home, okay?"

I smiled for her. "I'll try."

She looked like she wanted to say something else. It gnawed on her visibly, but she ignored it. A blink of long golden eyelashes and she stepped over to Peeta. There was no hesitation in their momentary embrace, at which the end, Peeta pressed his lips to the top of her golden-haired head as I did to Ivy.

"Stay safe, Peeta." Primrose said quietly.

"I'll try." A crooked smile.

An exchanged moment of adoration. Of family.

Primrose stood off by Ivy to wait.

A baby was pressed into my arms.

Jace was still asleep, tiny strands of dark hair stuck to his forehead, soft pink face scrunched up in his dreamland. Such a tiny, light thing… I kissed him on the forehead. There was a short moment in which his eyes opened to stare up at me. I saw Finnick in his gaze. It was beautiful while it lasted, but the child soon fell back asleep, snuggling into his blue wrap.

"Bye, Jace." I whispered, handing him over to Peeta.

While I watched his expression morph, Annie put her arms around me and we gripped each other.

"Please come back in one piece, okay?" She held my hand.

Again, I promised that. Yet another promise I'd break.

Annie hugged Peeta for a moment, too, and after whispering a heartbroken farewell to him, too, she scooted from the room.

It was only my mother and Haymitch left.

Mother seemed kind of frozen.

Haymitch seemed kind of sad.

He cleared his throat and reached out to put his hand on my shoulder. "Do me a favor, Katniss."

"What?" I hoped I'd see him again. I'd grown to like the old drunk. Perhaps even love. Like an alcoholic mess of an uncle. I loved him to death.

Haymitch sighed. "Stay alive."

That was his farewell, used more than once in our lifetime. It was his farewell, and judging by the way he just stared at Peeta for a moment (neither of them looked too thrilled with the situation), let out another wheezing breath and just _left_ the room, it was his final one. I watched him go with a despondent expression. _Good-bye, Haymitch._

Caroline didn't say anything to me. She just stepped over, kissed me on the cheek and then kissed Peeta on the cheek. Ivy then crawled up into her arms and they dragged themselves from the room, shoulders hunched with sadness. Following her was Prim, my darling little sister. She knew to leave our mother to grant her own valediction.

When the time came and I had to lift my eyes up to meet Mother's, it was painful. To my heart and to my lungs and to my soul.

She straightened my jacket. "Be good out there, okay? Keep yourselves safe. Call when you get to District 13."

"_If", you mean._

I nodded to her. "I will, Mother."

Mother's gaze slid from mine to Peeta's, and she sighed. "You two make me so proud."

That was all that was said.

Peeta wrapped his arms around her again, swallowing the words before letting them slide from his tongue. "Goodbye, Mother."

She gave him a watery smile and a pat on the cheek. "Goodbye, my boy."

He looked like he was about to break. When my mother turned her back to him, instead of crying, he bit his lower lip so hard it began to bleed a line of scarlet into his mouth.

After walking halfway back to the kitchen, Mother turned back around. "I love you both, don't forget."

At the same time, both Peeta and I choked out, "We won't."

Another pained smile. "I hope to hear from you in twenty hours, then?"

"Of course." I leaned into Peeta's side and laced my fingers securely in his.

"Good." Mother blinked and left the living room very quickly, closing the kitchen door quietly behind her. What we didn't see was her collapse in the middle of the cheerful yellow tiles and cry into her hands.

Once outside, Peeta heaved a sigh. "Thus beginning our journey across many miles to freedom… Do we have any plan other than walk northwest?"

I squinted out at the sun, just barely peeking through the nonthreatening veil of silver clouds in the sky. The Meadow's overgrown grass tickled my knees as we waded towards the edge of the forest. "Not in particular, but first things first. I need my bow."

Our lack of plan frightened me deep down inside, but the day was young, our hearts were strong and our eyes were keen. Perhaps it was in arrogance that I thought we'd actually make it to District 13. Perhaps in faith. I wasn't so sure, but I truly believed deep in myself. It was that belief that pulled my feet forwards. That belief alone.

So we walked.

It was hour 7 on our feet in the woods, and all was surprisingly peaceful. Cheerful birds sang to Peeta and me as we treaded swiftly across the moss underneath our shoes. Neither of us spoke a whole lot. Occasionally, Peeta would stop and ask me how I was doing, patting my stomach. Every time I would answer: "I'm fine". I wasn't lying. It was a lot more peaceful and easy doing what we were doing than the Games, by far. It was an appropriate temperature, we had food in our bellies, and there were only around eight people after us, not twenty-two. So far so good, right? It actually reminded me of hunting. Gale and I used to wander _miles_ away from D12, taking the entire day to find food for our family's tables. This was no more than a hunting trip, I tried convincing myself.

At 2:40 in the afternoon (Peeta had strapped a wristwatch to him before leaving) we were blessed with the sun being muted with the little flat clouds that have been with us all day. I had tied my jacket to my waist and pulled my top off to just walk in a tank-top. Moving for as long and as fast as we were, there was already a coat of sweat on the back of my neck and under my arms. Peeta was even more soaked than me, but for some reason he hasn't taken his shirt off yet, to travel in less heavy layers. That surprised me seeing as how he seemed to be opposed to wearing a great deal of clothes.

Peeta caught my amused stare and grinned at me. "You doing okay, there?"

"I'm doing fine, thank you, Peeta." I snorted my nose as I stepped over a tiny stream. It burbled on merrily, continuing west gaily without looking back.

"And Peeta Junior?"

I had given up fighting him about that. My eyes rolled at his amusing charm. "He's doing the same as he was doing ten minutes ago when you asked last."

"Excellent." Peeta turned his gaze back to the woods in front of us, taking a swig of water from his bottle.

Things continued.

Birds chirped, trees quaked, streams laughed, the occasional woodland creature scuttling away at the sound of our feet on the forest floor.

Fifteen minutes later, Peeta spoke again.

"How far of you think we are?"

I squinted up ahead, doing math in my mind. It had been 7-and-a-half hours, going what we decided as five miles an hour, so a little over thirty-five miles.

He whistled a low, impressed note. "That's a long ways. It doesn't feel that long."

"It does to my leg muscles." They hadn't been exercised this much in a few years, and were taking the trip none too lightly.

Peeta let out a short laugh and agreed with me.

With the time ticking away slowly and with every step we took further towards our destination, the scenery began changing. The spaces between trees had began getting larger until it was no problem walking side-by-side with Peeta without running into anything, and a good majority of the evergreens were traded in for deciduous. Overhead, the clouds had thinned considerably, letting a generous amount of sun onto our backs, scratching sunburns into the backs of our necks and shoulders. Peeta had finally given in and stuffed his shirt in his bag. When he noticed me raising an eyebrow at him, he winked.

Moss and vines beneath our toes turned into layers of dirt and leaves and the ground dipped and rose with tree roots tangling under the surface. I noted the extreme change to Peeta when we stopped for a short rest against a pair of birch tree.

"I don't remember the forest being like this when I ran from District 13 last year." It had been worrying me, admittedly. "There were more evergreens. A lot more."

Peeta munched on a small piece of his bread in thought. "Perhaps we're going too far north."

_Crap…_ "If that's the case, then moving back west will add another few hours to our arrival time."

He sighed. "Yeah, but there's nothing we can do to help that."

Silence between us, and I scanned my eyes at the woods around us. It was sparse enough for people to easily see us. My back prickled uneasily, feeling so vulnerable and open.

"Then let's go west and hope things make a little more sense."

I wished we had a better plan. Even though I gripped my bow in one hand a quiver of twenty arrows was strapped to my back, I didn't feel near as safe as just an average hunting day. There was still that _taste_ to the air. A taste that said: "Move fast, Katniss, they're still coming after you." So I did. Taking Peeta's hand again I tugged him west. We slogged on.

Thankfully, Peeta was right about the direction we were going. Within a few hours, the forest changed back into the majority being evergreens. Mostly white spruce—different from the thick pines and black spruce back at home—dotted the area, and it became hard once again to walk side-by-side. Peeta kept hold of my hand, even when we had to squeeze between trees. Every now and then there was a meadow or hill, in which we did our best avoiding, for the sake of visibility. The less we were able to be spotted from the air the better.

The sun was not quite directly ahead of us, beginning to turn a brilliant shade of molten lava. Far up in the sky above and behind us, stars twinkled, barely visible. At another brief stopping point, Peeta told me that if we were lucky, we'd have about just nine hours to go. We were more than halfway there, and not a spot of trouble had risen. That in itself scared me, but I just shrugged it away. No trouble was fine with me. I just hoped we'd get to District 13.

"Are you thirsty?" Peeta asked me, noticing me stuffing my freshly-empty water bottle back into my pack.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Not really."

He gave me his water. "Keep up your strength. You're running for two, you know."

My lips raised in a small smile. For some reason, I absolutely loved when he talked about that. Hopefully this stress and excursion wasn't harming the fetus in any way. I was still in the beginning of my first trimester, so it really shouldn't make a lick of a difference, but there were always things to worry about.

Another half-hour passed.

My limbs ached, my skin itched with blisters, and it had grown quiet and still outside. Most of the birds hushed, and the scurry of woodland creatures was muted at their turning in for the night. In the worried, rushed skip of the moment, I felt a twinge of guilt because a new feeling had risen. This was no time to complain about being bored when there were ninjas running after you, looking under rocks and in trees for their prize.

I sighed, not wanting to think about that. My eyes wandered over to Peeta as we plodded on.

He noticed. "What?"

Lightly, I shook my head and turned my gaze back away. Change of subject seemed necessary. "Nothing. I was just thinking about names."

A grin stretched across his face. We both knew this was one of his favorite topics, whether annoying me to death with it or it being an actual discussion. He was trying not to smile quite as wide. "And what were you considering?"

This distraction was perfect. We walked at the same pace, if not faster.

I shrugged for the third time in an hour. "I was actually thinking about how last night you'd said you had a lot of names swirling around in your head other than Christophe. I take it none of those names were for a girl?"

He shook his head, blond hair flopping. "Nope."

"What names, though?"

Peeta reached up to snap a small twig off of a nearby tree, and he fiddled with it as we walked. "Mm… I was thinking keeping them a surprise. Sure, there are some I love perhaps even more than Christophe, but..."

"…you won't tell me." I finished, looking up at the neutral sky and then back at him with an amused, sarcastic smile. "I really appreciate it."

"Any time." He smiled back and leaned forwards to kiss me.

Our lips had just barely brushed before something went terribly wrong.

From behind us, a metallic clicking noise erupted, whirring faster and faster. It sounded like a huge engine warming up, rising to a dull roar. My heart leap up to my throat and I did what I didn't have the chance to do last night—I ran. My hand gripped Peeta's as tight as possible and we bolted, flying like frightened deer through the underbrush. I was blind with terror, and later I'd find blood caked all in my hair from branches whipping violently across the top of my head.

The roaring from behind us stopped as soon as it had started. I stumbled briefly in surprise, but Peeta yanked me harshly.

"_Come on!" _he hissed, pulling me. I kept running.

Now that the strange mechanical sound had gone, new sounds burst from the world around us like an open piñata. Shouts and feet trampling the ground, right behind us. Birds took to the sky, alarmed. It felt as though a herd of cows were charging us, in reality it was just a few humans. A few humans_ after us_. They got nearer and nearer. My heart pounded violently against my throat and my breath was heavy, scraping in and out of my lungs. _No, no, not here, not now_. I have to get _home_!

I blinked frightened tears away, but that millisecond was all it took for me to lose footing. My toes got jammed under a root of a tree and I was sent crashing forwards. A sharp pain shot through my shin as it banged against yet another root. The impact of my fall curved my body into an upside-down U shape, and a loud CRACKwas heard and felt against my spine.

"_No_," I wailed, feeling the broken remnants of my bow fall off my back. "No!"

Peeta pulled me upwards. "I'm sorry, Katniss, but we have to _run_!"

I was limping, a great deal slower than I had been.

The footsteps were right behind us. If I turned around I could have seen them, seen their wicked faces twist in triumph. I did not turn around, but kept going. Kept running even though they were no longer behind me and Peeta. Their crashing was heard on either side of us, and then, to my fright, in front.

Both Peeta and I let out startled yells as figures appeared in front of us. We skidded and fell to our knees, and suddenly, hands were grabbing us.

"Get _off_ me!" I screamed, lashing out with the eight-inch hunting knife in my fingers. It didn't connect with anything. Instead, it was knocked from my hand. "No, _no," _

A pair of meaty hands yanked my arms behind me, holding my wrists together. Pain lanced through my shoulders and I cried out in pain.

"_Get the hell off her."_

Peeta came hurdling above me and landed a square kick in my assailant's face. He rolled off, cursing loudly.

I managed to stand before Peeta tried to pull me away again. I almost wanted to sink to my knees again and give up. _We've lost_.

"No, do _not _give up." He yelled at me, and tried to pull me forwards, but two people rose behind him.

"Peeta, watch out!" I yelled, but it was too late.

The men reached their arms around him and got a tight hold around his arms and torso, forcing him to the ground.

"No, _Peeta!"_ I ran forwards but was forced back. The pack was ripped from my back and thrown. The force from the action made me stumble backwards, and I lost my footing. Fingers gripped my wrist hard as I fell, once again taking hold of me. And this time, Peeta wasn't going to help. He was groaning in pain a few feet away, head ducked and tears streaming from his eyes.

"Don't hurt him!" I begged, squirming, but not getting anywhere. "_Please _don't hurt him!"

Suddenly, the air went quiet. Somewhere in the rooftops, a mockingjay whistled one clear note. I knew what that meant. The hovercraft appeared behind me. I couldn't twist around and see, but I didn't want to. My thoughts were on Peeta.

When the hovercraft signaled its arrival, all of the men—there were eight, I counted—froze in place and stared up at where the craft had materialized. Each of their faces wore roughly the same expression: _Oh, crap._

"What's going on here?" a loud voice demanded from behind me.

Everyone present except for me and Peeta snapped one of their hands to their forehead in a salute.

The man who was holding me kept a mean grip on my wrists with one hand (I whimpered in pain), the other still in a salute. "General, sir, we have completed your orders."

The light tread of feet on pinecones and leaves approached me slowly, and from the corner of my eyes I saw the tip of a sturdy green boot tap.

"…No, I don't believe you have. I said to not hurt them. They look in pain don't they, Lycian?"

"Um…yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

The general knelt down in front of me. I glanced up and looked at him though sweaty locks of hair over my eyes. I could then see the man behind all this, the man that took Finnick, the man who destroyed my house and made me more afraid than I've ever been. But to my surprise, his face was not callous and hard-lined and as frightening as the man I'd imagined.

The shape of his head was rounded, little creases formed at the corners of his light-green eyes. A dash of freckles were scattered across the bridge of his nose, and even the buzz-cut given to his red hair couldn't make him seem any more menacing. He seemed more like a hard-working father than a malicious kidnapper. Yet something about him seemed so painfully familiar, it took me a few seconds to remember I hated him more than anything.

The general took in my face and sighed, standing up to face my aggressor. "Let them go, Soldiers."

I felt fingernails dig into my skin before the hands thrust me onto the ground. A sharp twig ripped a shallow gash on my cheek and I hissed in pain before lifting my head back up and crawling over to Peeta. Everyone's eyes were on us, that much I knew, but I didn't care. There was no hope getting away anyways.

"Are you okay?" Peeta touched his thumb to my cheek briefly, but I could see the agony displayed in his eyes. It told what was in my mind as well, even if he didn't immediately voice it. One of his hands was bent at an odd, painful angle, and scarlet liquid coated his nose and mouth.

I chose not to answer. After holding his hurt gaze for another moment, I got my legs under me and managed to stand. Pain screamed in one of my ankles but I didn't show my anguish. I stood to look face-to-face with the general, which was easy, because he was barely two inches taller than me.

His face was emotionless, if not a little sad. "Well, well, well. You have caused my men a great deal of trouble, Miss Katniss."

"_I_ have caused _you_ trouble?" I gritted my teeth, putting as much abhorrence in my glare as possible.

Peeta stood, with difficulty, and faced the general with me, expression the same loathing. He held my hand for strength, though I knew he was as afraid as I was.

"I have not caused you trouble." A collection of blood that was pooling in my mouth from a wound in my cheek was spat onto the general's shoes. "Not yet, I haven't."

He pursed his lips, but let the subject slip. "I do apologize for your last twenty-four hours."

I kept glaring.

"My men have gone completely against my instructions."

The man that had hurt Peeta so bad cracked his knuckles and scowled. "You were thinking exactly what we were thinking when we broke into the house. Quick and easy. Get back to the boss, get on with our lives. Don't deny you weren't thinking it, too, Sawyer."

One moment the man in charge was standing in front of me, the next he had his fingers around the other guy's neck.

"That's _General_ Sawyer to you, Soldier Jove."

Soldier Jove gave a raspy chuckle. "You'll never be a general to me."

A sharp, electric zap filled our ears and the soldier fell to the ground, writhing, as shocks of electricity ran up and down his body. I stared, horrified—yet mesmerized—at the man until the general snapped his fingers.

"Take him to the hovercraft, Soldier Dicemoar."

One of the less meaty men stepped forwards and did as he was told.

Something was itching at the back of my mind. The name "Sawyer" sounded so familiar. Just, something about that man… I didn't have time to think too hard about it. Other thoughts barged in. Peeta was silent, his good hand around mine, but I could feel the hopelessness and the fear through his touch. We both knew that it would take a miracle to get out of this now.

There was a long moment of silence. General Sawyer stood looking me and Peeta up and down as if considering our worth. He snapped his fingers again. "Lycian, Caeme."

The two men stepped forwards. They both looked like gorillas. Nothing like the ninjas I'd pictured in my mind.

"Hold, please."

At the General's word, my arms were wrenched backwards and held me where I couldn't move if I tried. Peeta cried out when Caeme grabbed him. The soldier earned a swift knee to the gut.

"Enough, Soldier Caeme. Do you have to completely abolish everything you touch?" The general wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I heard their basement door isn't even a door anymore. You crushed it into splinters."

I couldn't help myself. I twisted violently in my hold to look at him, fire in my eyes. "It was _you_."

Peeta's face had gone white, too.

Caeme grinned evilly, displaying rows of broken brown teeth. No, they weren't broken, they were…jagged? Like a sharks. Surely he wasn't born like that… He looked proud of himself. "Surely you weren't _that_ attached to it, were you, Miss Everdeen?"

"It's Mellark, and no, that's not it." I spat out another mouthful of blood onto the forest floor. Red amongst the shades of green. "I was in that bathroom. Hiding. The room in which you stopped right in front. The one you didn't go into."

The color drained from the soldier's face, but purple flooded fast. "Why, you—" He lunged forwards—

"For God's sakes, Caeme," General Sawyer kneed him again, earning a wounded groan from the soldier. "Stop that."

Black eyes gleamed in pain as the Caeme glared at his general. "Fine."

"Fine, _sir_."

"…Yes, sir."

Content with asserting his authority, the general folded his hands behind his back and looked pleased, eyes fixed to some point to our left. "…He'll be happy to have them in one piece, this soon…."

I blinked slowly, ignoring the aching, throbbing muscles. "_Who _will be happy?"

A smile, so painfully familiar I had to avert my eyes. General Sawyer raised his dark red eyebrows. "We all have to answer to _someone_, Katniss."

My heart twitched and faltered under wounded lungs. "Why do you answer at all?"

For the first time since I'd seen him, a new expression peeled onto the general's face. Not superiority, not annoyance, not malice. A tiny bit of suffering. "He killed the man that tore me from my family."

"And yet here you are, tearing us from _our_ families."

The suffering from his face vanished immediately and General Sawyer turned around. "…Tranquilize them."

At those words, Peeta and I struggled, twisting madly in the grasps of our captors. Needles swayed dangerously close to the soft skins of our exposed skin of the crook of our elbows. I yanked away from the one held above my own, but another pair of chunky hands held my arm tightly.

"No!" Peeta ripped one of his arms away—with difficulty—and reached for me, a new track of tears beginning their way down the side of his cheek. Fear pounded in his face as our eyes latched together. "_I promised,_"

The needle pierced my skin and a cold, icy feeling began spreading through my veins. It hit my legs first, making me slump to the ground. A buzzing started filling my ears and my vision blurred. Slowly, too slowly.

Peeta's frail, shaky voice spoke before his eyes closed all the way. "General… Who's your family?"

This surprised me. Of all of the last words to speak. My eyelids forced themselves open and I looked over at Peeta. He seemed already unconscious, if it wasn't for the slits of blue showing and the weak attempts to pull his hands away.

General Sawyer turned back to us and smiled. "Oh, I think you know them."

Just before I drowned in colored, a face flashed before my eyelids. Sweet and round and girlish, curls of red hair tied back in the same white ribbon that was wrapped around my braid at this very moment.

"Oh," I said, and I blacked out.


	6. Chapter 6

_You all are such CHARMERS. I'm sorry I haven't updated this chapter sooner, but here it is now! I absolutely loved all the reviews I got, you're so enthusiastic. It's delicious. Now go read!_

_This chapter is dedicated to one of my absolutely favorite friends, Katannamionestorm, for being so adorable. (:  
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**oOo**

At the first signs of light, I was forced to open my heavy eyelids. My mouth tasted dry and gross for not drinking for God-knows-how-long. There was a crick in my neck and my leg was still aching from tripping, but all the discomforts vanished when I looked around.

I was staring up at lavish hangings in some sort of maroon color. Rich decorations were everywhere, in fact. I turned my head and there was an ornate oak desk, polished and carved into spectacular designs. On a less-spectacular table right next to the bed, I could see a few of my belongings that I'd taken with me: the bit of white ribbon, my jacket, the burlap satchel, the three knives (who in their right mind would kidnap me and give me back my weapons?), and the empty water bottle. Above the desk was a mirror that put my own bathroom mirror to shame (which was saying something). When I turned my head stiffly the other way, there was a _huge_—and I mean huge as in takes-up-the-entire-wall kind of huge—window, covered in thick maroon drapes that skimmed the floor and bunched around the top. In the very center of the window there was an edgewise sliver of light peeking in. On the wall that was unoccupied by a window or desk or multiple doors, a massive television screen was embedded into the wall.

For a second I contemplated getting up and finding out exactly where I was, but I just might fall over on my face, it felt like I had been drugged. Then again, I _had_ been.

"Peeta?" I whispered through a sore throat and attempted to sit up on my elbows. It worked for the most part, but my situation dawned on me and I fell right back onto—pillows?

I seemed to be in a giant bed, surrounded by what seemed like fifty pillows, covered in yarn designs and tassels and bits of silk. Heavy—and as equally luxurious decorated—blankets were draped over the bed as well, giant and thick enough to make a -40-degree night feel like springtime. But what was odd was that I was out of my torn trousers and tank-top and in a nightgown, this shimmery black one that was smooth and cool against my skin, but it covered less than my own pink nighty at home.

I touched my cheek where I had fallen on a sharp branch; it was still stinging and covered in dried blood. My hands were just as covered as filth as they had been, so I guessed that whoever dressed me in this gown hadn't bothered to clean me off first and put a bandage on my cuts. Cuts that I had gotten while running for my life right before Peeta and I got our arms pinned behind our backs and needles jabbed into our arms by gorilla-ninjas. And that man…General Sawyer…

Was he really Ivy's father? No wonder Caroline never talked about him. My heart went out to that precious little girl. I may never get to hold her again…

Taking a deep, frightened breath, I swallowed and sat up again. "Peeta?" He was nowhere in sight. "Peeta!"

I had to shake off the heaviness in my bones and swing my legs off the giant bed. The jump to the floor was two feet, which was easily made but got me ridden with vertigo for a second afterward.

"Peeta?" I called hoarsely, stumbling a few steps towards another door. It was unlocked and I opened it, practically tripping in. "Peeta?"

It was a bathroom. There were four glass bowls—with swirling metal holes in the bottom for drainage—on a long marble counter, shining faucets hovering above them. The entire wall that the counter was up against curved into a half-moon shape, a huge mirror curving along with it. There was a huge, shiny porcelain tub on one side, and a shower half the size of my own room at home, with sliding, blurred glass doors to enter it.

"Peeta?" I whispered, peering into the shower. Nope. That was when I began to get frantic, yelling instead of whispering. "Peeta! PEETA!"

As I ran out of the bathroom, my bare feet buried themselves into the thick carpet with every step I took running for another door in the room that could possibly lead me out. Sobbing with fear, I scrambled to get this one open, but when I did, I just tripped right into an enormous walk-in closet, already stocked. Everything looked my size.

"_What's going on here?" _I screamed, running out of the closet and throwing myself at the last door. "Peeta!" It was locked. "Peeta!" The screams grew into weaker sobs and I fell onto my knees, scratching at the wood until I felt my fingernails split and bleed. So I closed my fists and pounded on the mahogany wood feebly, sobbing. "Peeta, where are you? Help me…"

He didn't come.

I stayed there for another two minutes, and then crawled into the bathroom. In there I splashed my face off with cold water and drank some of it, though the metallic taste was not appetizing. I coughed and rubbed my forehead. What do I do?

A thought popped into my head and I frowned. Absentmindedly wiping the taste from my tongue, I shuffled back into the bedroom and over to the giant window. Taking the velvety material in my fingers, I drew the drapes.

_Oh my god…_

It was the ocean, grey-blue in the light of day. Though the sun was shining somewhere I couldn't see, it cast an orange reflection on the water all the same. It was brilliant, but when I glanced down, it was obvious that escape out this way was not possible. I must have been at least a hundred feet up, and on a _hill_, no less. Surrounding what I had deduced to be the mansion was a forest stretching for as far as the eye could see. Deep jade evergreens—some as high as thirty feet up—swayed in the light breeze, unaccompanied by any leaf-bearing trees. Where was I?

I put my hand on the glass and it felt cold, as if the air outside wasn't as warm as the air inside. Tentatively, I pounded on it lightly a few times. There was no way I'm getting out like this, and even if I did, I had no idea which direction _home_ was.

I began to cry again, helpless, frightened tears. With a hand covering my mouth, I forced my legs to carry me back to the bed. Once I was there, I curled up into a little ball and pressed my face into the alien-smelling covers. Fear raked my body like knives, and I bit my lip hard to try and numb some of the pain. It didn't work, obviously, just brought more. I felt cold and empty…

_Where are you, Peeta?_

I let my pinky finger travel along my left hand to twist the delicate pearl ring he had given me, but it wasn't there. _No, no, no_… The last bit of sanity came pouring out my startled self as I opened my eyes and found two shaking, bare hands, no ring in sight. Had General Sawyer stolen it? Did I drop it? I couldn't have _possibly_… At any rate, it was gone, leaving only a pale band around the finger it used to be on, a reminder of what I had failed to do. I had lost my last piece of Peeta.

A quiet sound tickled my eardrums and my eyes flew open to stare at the other end of the room. The scene was blurry for a few seconds before it came into focus. Everything was still the same, except for a girl standing there. I froze in terror.

She looked about sixteen, with strawberry blond hair and freckles covering most of her pale face. She looked a little scared, but brave.

"What are you doing here?" I cried, balling up my fists. "What am _I_ doing here? _Where's Peeta?_"

The girl just stood there, looking sad.

All the rage and anger that was bubbling up inside of me came exploding out. I leapt off the bed and barreled toward the strange girl. My hands slammed into the wall on either side of her head, and I was screaming again.

"Where's Peeta? What did you do to him? _Speak to me!_"

Tears started to trickle down the girl's eyes and she began shaking her head. She looked so scared and torn up, I backed away…giving her enough space to touch her lips and shake her head again. I knew that signal.

I wasn't sure what I was screaming, but I was. _How is this possible? What the hell is going on? I need to find Peeta, how is this possible?_

"Don't you dare touch me!" I yelled—voice already getting sore—when the girl tried to take a step closer to me. "You were supposed to be _gone_, you _all_ are supposed to be gone. I need to get Peeta out of here I need to go home! _Where's Peeta?_"

There was no way I could be standing in s room with an Avox girl next to me. No _possible_ way.

She tried to soothe my screaming with hand gestures, but all it did was make me cry worse. When I wouldn't accept her hand, she scrabbled through her pockets and brought out a yellow notepad and a pen. After jotting something down, she thrust the pad into my hands without waiting. _Is this some sort of cruel joke?_

I scrubbed at my eyes and stared down at the paper, trying to see through the blur of tears. And when I finally _could_ see, there were seven small words, written in neat handwriting.

_**We are not here to hurt you.**_

I glanced up at the Avox, panting nervously, still trembling with fear. "What do you mean by 'we'?"

She didn't take the notepad back, but gestured to the entire room, mansion.

"There are more?" I swallowed and began to shake again. "The entire Capitol?" The word burned in my throat like fire.

The girl looked even more scared, but of me. With shaking hands, she took the pad back and wrote:

_**All minus the ones who went with Snow.**_

I almost vomited. The taste of bile was in my mouth. "How?"

She shook her head. Ok, so I couldn't ask that.

"But Snow's dead. Have you been running it yourselves or…or… He's not dead?" A heave shuddered my entire body as the realization came crashing over me.

The Avox girl shook her head furiously and scribbled:

_**He's dead, but we have a new leader.**_

Oh, damn. "Who?"

She shook her head again.

"Why am I here then? Where's Peeta? Where are we?" I was crying again.

_**We're in what used to be the state of Alaska. I don't know anything else.**_

"Well…" I am screwed. There's really no point in resisting, either way I lose. "What are _you_ doing here?"

The girl put on a slightly softer face.

_**To be your friend and to help you. I am to bring you to him.**_

"Who?"

She shook her head.

Fear sliced down my throat and all around my body like daggers, letting all dignity spill out like blood. I didn't know where I was, where _Peeta_ was. An unwanted piece of my past just showed up, and it happened it be the worst part in my life with no competition whatsoever. A fate worth than death, if you ask me. _I am _so_ screwed. But I need to find Peeta first. To do that, I need to cooperate_.

I hung my head weakly and gulped. "Do what you have to do. I just want Peeta back."

The Avox put her hand on my shoulder, obviously in sympathy. It was all I could do not to shrug it off. We went on with what was originally planned for me. The girl guided me to the shower and helped me scrub off all the dirt and blood, and bandage up the wounds I had got. She dressed me in a girlish outfit that I did not agree with—a pleated skirt and a blouse—and dried my hair with this strange electrical tube. It was put into two braids. When the Avox was finishing up the second braid, I took a breath.

"Why so girlish?"

The Avox paused, and the turned back to her pad of paper.

_**You are less intimidating in pink**__._

I frowned down at the pastel skirt she had me in, that reached almost to my knees. I suppose that made sense, but that didn't make me like it any more.

It was only until we reached the door I began to freak.

"This…leader." I began, turning once more to the sixteen-year-old Avox girl. "Is he the new president?"

She pondered for a second, and then shook her head.

"But he wants to kill me. Obviously." I bit my lip nervously. "That's why I'm here."

But this answer was automatic for her. She shook her head vigorously and took her notepad out again.

_**He is nothing like Snow. He treats us well and does not intend to do you harm.**_

I seriously doubted that, but in my case, I nodded my head. Normally when people say they aren't intending to do harm, they mean "a lot of harm, but you can't do anything about it". But I wasn't sure whether or not to doubt he treats them well. The Avox seemed well-groomed and neatly dressed, not to mention her pad of paper she carries around to communicate with. They were most definitely not allowed to do that before.

I paused for a long time after that, and then I glanced down at the girl. "What is your name?"

She smiled a little, dimples appearing that reminded me agonizingly of Prim.

_**Elizabeth Prentiss**_

I tried a smile back. _This is for Peeta,_ I reminded myself. "Well, Elizabeth, take me to this leader of yours. I'm ready."

With a comforting squeeze to my hand, the Avox girl, Elizabeth Prentiss, opened the door (I thought it was locked?) and led me out.

My room had been part of a smaller hallway, but once we got into the main corridor, my mouth popped open. The mansion from outside of my room was even more lush than in. Velvet tapestries and carved angels hung from the twenty-foot-tall ceiling. There were huge crystal chandeliers every fifty feet or so, illuminating the giant hall with an earthy glow, and the carpet beneath my bare feet was too elaborate to describe. I could taste the antiqueness and wealth in the very air I breathed.

There were people in the corridor as well. I spotted two in white doctor's robes (aside from faces pulled tight with the attempt of looking younger seemed average), and there were guards at every door. But something I noticed was that the harshness in their faces that had always been there before was gone. Another thing I'd noticed were the normal people (normal meaning tattooed breasts and chin implants and green, spiked hair), or lack thereof.

"Elizabeth," I whispered down to my Avox as she led me through the halls. "Where are all the people that lived around the Capitol building?"

She paused her walking for a moment to write something down.

_**It is not **__**just**__** this mansion. There is a town surrounding it where everyone is currently staying.**_

Those few words got my head reeling even more. So the _entire_ Capitol made it. I shivered in fright, wanting to ask so many more questions but restraining myself. If this leader really _was_ better than Snow, he would answer my questions. Then again, I could list a lot of people better than Snow.

We started walking again, and I found myself staring at people as we walked by. Eyes were latched onto me. Some were scared, some were angry, some just plain curious. None of these people I recognized, but I had to constantly remind myself that this was the Capitol: my enemy, not matter what the Avox girl said. Sure, I was quivering with fear and about ready to vomit, but mostly because the sheer improbability of all this. The Capitol? _The Capitol?_ Elizabeth tugged my elbow, and I realized I had stopped. Clenching my jaw, I muttered an apology and kept going.

We walked down the main corridor for a while, passing many things as we went. More people, the occasional pet, a food cart being pushed by a posh-looking butler. There was even the occasional little kid running around with a toy, but I noticed a similarity in 99% of them; as they walked by, each of them had their eyes trained on me.

I felt the Avox girl tug on my elbow again, guiding me down another, smaller hallway. Tentatively, I followed. My heart was beating faster and faster, pumping the metallic taste of fear and nervousness into my mouth. And when we made a complete stop in front of a door, I tasted bile in the back of my throat.

"I can't do this," I told Elizabeth, backing away quickly. "I can't do this. All I want is to find Peeta and go home. I want to go home…" I have to get home, I can't be here… I need to get my child home. A hand automatically reached down to cradle the nonexistent bump under my stomach, but that was a mistake.

The eyebrows of the Avox girl shot up straight into her hairline and she got this horrified look, staring down at where my hand was.

I covered up quickly, moaning, "I don't feel good…" to make her think it was just a stomachache.

The relief on Elizabeth's face was obvious. She went over to me and began to groom me as my mother had a habit of doing. Straightening out the ruffles down my sleeveless white blouse, dusting imaginary dirt off my shoulders, adjusting my two braids. When she was done with that, the girl cleared her throat (which must have been hard since she had no tongue), turning to her notepad.

_**Don't be afraid. You two have met before.**_

"What?" I said too loudly, backing up even more, calm air gone once again. "Who?"

She stretched up and gave me a small kiss on the cheek.

_**Good luck.**_

"No! You're not leaving!" Panic rose even hotter in my chest and I shook my head violently, still backing away. "Don't leave! I'm afraid," Those last two words slipped from my mouth without me even wanting them too, but they were true. Tears started pouring out of my eyes again. "Take me _home_."

Elizabeth gently took my hand and shook her head, again turning to the notepad.

_**I promise. There's nothing to be afraid of. **_

When she began leading me to the door again, I was too weak to refuse and fight back. But I kept telling her that I couldn't do it, I just couldn't. I had no choice, though. She opened the door and ushered me in, closing it quickly after me so I couldn't dash back out. I am _so_ screwed.

The room was smaller and less fancy than the others, and reminded me of a study back home. There were a few bookshelves, an armchair shoved into the corner, and a writing table in the middle of the room. The table was cluttered, but well-lit by a small lamp on the edge. There was one of those tall-backed chairs behind it, but its back was turned to me. Of course.

My breath began coming out in short, scared pants. I needed to get out of here. Reaching behind me, my hand scrambled for the doorknob. It was locked.

The person in the chair didn't so much as flinch at the sound of me trying to escape.

For a few minutes, in fact, neither of us moved. It was only until I actually thought the chair was unoccupied when I took a step closer. Two steps. Three. At five steps, the chair moved—startling me—making me step back one. The chair shifted again, and up, in one fluid, familiar motion stood—

My legs buckled under me and I collapsed onto the floor. The entire room swayed and lurched, black dots dancing in my line of vision. Bile filled my mouth, but I didn't care—about that or the painful spot on my shoulder where I fell. _It's impossible_… I was frozen where I lay. Tears ran in rivers down my cheeks. It was impossible. _Impossible_.

A gentle arm slid under my shoulder to prop me up, and a face stared down at me. Flawless, clean, tanned skin, dark eyes the exact color of the sky before it rains, raven black hair trimmed neater than I've ever seen it…

"Gale…" The word came gurgling out my mouth before I actually blacked out.

It was a feeling unlike any other I've ever had. Not blacking out, but having the pain of impossible recognition slam onto my chest like an anvil, knocking me breathless and attempting to make me sick all over the place. Part of my head was like, _silly Katniss, this is just a dream. Of course he's dead. Of COURSE. Silly._ But the other part was being smarty-pants and pointing out all the stuff I've tried to block out. _It isn't impossible, if you think about it. All you did was kill a few soldiers and Snow. No one ever said anything about the entire Capitol blowing up. And besides, the coffin WAS empty when you looked into it. Maybe when they said you were hallucinating, they were trying to cover up the fact that he was actually alive._

The second voice scared me more than the actual reality. Because I knew this was no dream.

I came around soon after (not sure exactly how long, though), and I found myself slumped in the cushy armchair I'd noticed earlier. _He_ was kneeling in front of me, one hand on my arm, one holding a cup of water. He tried putting it to my lips for a drink, but I struck out with my hand, sending it—and the water inside it—flying across the room, splattering on books.

"Katn—" Gale began, looking wary, but I didn't let him finish.

With the same hand that I'd knocked the glass of water, I stood up and backhanded him on the face so hard he stumbled backwards, eyes flying open in shock.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" I screamed, finding the strength to stand up. My split fingernails were pressed in my palm from clenched fists. I was standing over him now, trembling with an uncontrollable gush of several emotions. "What are you doing here? _Why the hell are you leader?_ Where's Peeta? D—"

"Be quiet for a second, Katniss." Gale winced, feeling the angry red welt I put on his cheek, already bruising. He stood up, but didn't try to move closer to me or anything. "Please. You misunderstand wh—"

"I misunderstand?" I gasped, putting my hands on my hips, tears still pouring down my face. "_I misunderstand?_ Do you even know where we are? _The Capitol_. Is this some sick joke you're playing on me?" My words were being spit out, but I was in shock too much to do what I wanted. If I was completely…not in shock, I would be screaming a lot louder, stomping around and hitting him some more, causing much more damage.

He blinked, biting his lip, staring at the floor with an emotion I couldn't pin very well.

"Tell me, _Gale_," I began, words now getting higher pitched with tears. "Tell me why it is that people were disappearing all around Panem? Tell me why you are taking people. Tell me why you're _alive_."

Gale rubbed his forehead, sitting down in his nice little swivel chair again. "I know you have questions, but please speak so where I can understand and answer them one at a time."

This was insane. I hoped I puke on his expensive new shoes. Shaking with fury, I dragged the armchair (it was so heavy…) in front of the desk and took a seat, sinking uncomfortably lower than him. Swallowing, I leaned forward on my hands on the desk. "Let's start at the beginning."

He nodded, and looked at me with a familiar, typical-Gale look that made my heart wrench.

"You died. I watched you _die_. What are y…" I sighed, trying to ease my trembling. "Tell me why you are still alive when I watched you die."

Gale blinked at me, and then took a deep breath. "My heart stopped, but that didn't mean I died. I was out of blood, my heart stopped. I remember feeling empty and in pain, and the last thing I remembered before I…went out, was you by my bed, holding my hand. I said your name, I blacked out. Well…" He pursed his lips, gaze averted. "The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a hovercraft, strapped to a table with new blood coursing through an IV in my arm."

"Well, that's all fine and dandy," I spat. "But you were alive, you should have come _back_. To District 13. To me. You _left me_, Gale." Now tears were coming quicker, and sobs were making my words even more garbled. "You _left_ me. Why did you leave?" I was yelling, but I realized it wasn't because what I had previously thought. "I thought you were dead, my best friend was DEAD. I went _insane_ because of that. But you were alive, why didn't you _come back to me_?"

He winced at my wounded cries, and I could see the wetness in his own eyes, which he blinked away quickly. "I was in the hands of the Capitol; it would never have been that easy."

There was a pause, in which I gathered myself together for the most part. I would never forgive him, I decided. Never forgive him for leaving me. "Okay, well, now you're their leader. How did _that_ happen?"

"…That's quite a story."

I crossed my arms and said coolly, "I've got time."

A pause.

"Well, there were only two people in the hovercraft besides me. The driver and the doctor whose blood he was giving me. I didn't know either of them, but they seemed pretty glad I was alive. When I asked them who they were and what they were doing, they told me that Snow had ordered them to kidnap me, but he wasn't going to be happy if I died."

I kept scowling, arms still crossed.

"But the catch was that both of them didn't like following Snow's orders and even though they captured me, they weren't going to return to their base—here—and instead going to use me for their own advantage." Gale furrowed his brows at the memory. "So we stayed up in the hovercraft for a while, and one day we were…well, we had landed off somewhere near District 13, because they were planning on breaking in to get some information…or something. But they never returned."

I scoffed.

"I didn't know how to fly a hovercraft." Gale admitted, rubbing his jaw. "Still don't. But I knew that Snow was planning an attack on D13 for quite some time, and I knew his plans exactly thanks to the two idiots that had capture me. And when I heard the explosion, I went to check it out. Ended up nearly crashing the hovercraft at their camp that had exploded, but managed to get it onto the ground in mostly one piece."

A lump formed in my throat. Genuinely curious, I asked: "Was this before or after my body was retrieved?"

His eyes dropped to the desk, in what might have been shame. "…I saw you, but I could do nothing. I thought you were dead." Gale's eyes sparkled again. "Probably one of the most terrifying moments of my life, but I knew there wasn't anything to do. So I did what I _could_."

I had begun to shake again. So Gale had…he was with me. I swallowed and licked my lips before speaking. "What was that?"

Gale blinked almost matter-of-factly. "Steal Snow's body of course. And set the GPS on the hovercraft straight to its docking station back here. It wasn't hard that time, especially when it already knew where to go."

The story seemed so ludicrous and maybe even _simple_, but that made it even harder to believe.

"So I came here, was greeted by a hoard of soldiers. They demanded to know where the army had gone, but the strangest thing…" Gale's brows furrowed again and he chewed on the inside of his lip, contemplating. "I showed them Snow's body, and some of the soldiers—grown men—began crying."

Yeah right. As if. Crying why?

"They were all against him, killing children and ruining their lives, their families. They were all afraid of him, too afraid to do anything. But I told them what happened and gave up the mangled body of their leader, and then everyone began treating me differently. Avox's fed me rich food, gave me all the clothes and freedom I could want, and people began going to me for advice or directions, and here I am now." Gale swept his arms out around us. "In the heart of the Capitol."

I wasn't sure what to do. It was insane, obviously, and I didn't want to believe it, but how else? How else would he possibly be able to become the leader of the legendary post-apocalyptic dystopia of Panem?

"And you never had the sense to come and tell me that you were alive," I said quietly, aching inside.

A pained look crossed Gale's face, and he was silent for a while. I could see a muscle in his cheek clench and unclench slowly, several times before he opened his mouth. "…I-I came. I came to your house in District 12. I came, wanting to do exactly that. I wanted to see you more than anything, but…" He licked his lips and I saw a translucent tear slide down the curve of his nose. "I saw you, in there…with…with a-a baby. Holding it and laughing. And then Peeta came up behind you, laughing too." All of a sudden, Gale's face burned with hatred. "I knew I couldn't come with him there. And I couldn't go back to my family. I just stood there watching you two through the window. …I have never hated Peeta Mellark more in my life."

"Don't hate him!" I shouted, standing up, fists clenched into tight balls. "Don't say a single bad word about Peeta. We were happy!"

He was still fuming, gritting his teeth and refusing to look me in the eyes.

"And for the record," I hissed, "the kid isn't ours. He's Finnick's and Annie's. They come over a lot. But I—" I had to stop myself telling Gale that I was pregnant. That would be the worst thing to do right then.

The relief on Gale's face covered the hatred, but only for a moment. "Well… Anyhow, I couldn't see you. And obviously I didn't have a chance seeing you in the future by just waltzing up to your doorstep. So I came up with a different tactic."

"What?" I pounded a hand on the desk, breathing heavily. "Kidnapping my husband so I had no choice but to be with you? How devilishly clever, _Gale_."

"I was determined, Katniss, to have you as my own." Gale's once-loved, pretty grey eyes were now narrowed menacingly. "I loved you—and still love you—more than anything. I was willing to do anything, and I knew the best way to have you is to make _you_ come to _me_."

"And that's exactly what I did," I said sarcastically. "Not at all knocked out by over half a dozen freakin' gorillas wearing black in the middle of the woods while running for my life with Peeta. Of course not, that was purely my own choice."

He shook his head slowly. "No. I knew that you'd figure out what was happening. Hunger Games victors disappearing, your friend vanishing from their own homes. I knew you cared for them and you'd go looking for them. And if not, you'd risk your life—and the lives of your remaining friends—to get yourself and them to safety. It was easy once you were out in the woods."

"That's evil, Gale." I said, a lump forming in my throat. "That's evil. What are you _gaining_ kidnapping all those innocent people and bringing me here to your throne?"

His face softened, but only slightly. "I'm going to let them go, Katniss. I promise. I'm not evil, like Snow. I'm not doing this to hurt people. Everyone will be let go. I was only getting them to prove a point, and to get to you."

"And now you have me," I said, _really_ wanting to vomit. He was sick. What happened to the Gale I once knew and loved? This man—he's a monster. "You have me, you have everyone I love. You have complete control over me. I can't win this fight. What are you going to do, huh?"

"What I've always tried to do:" He shrugged, as if it was nothing. "Change your mind."

"Keep me prisoner all you want, _asshole_, but that won't change my love for Peeta, and my newfound hatred for you." Cold tears were dribbling down my face.

"Not prisoner, Katniss," Gale looked almost sad that I had suggested it. "I just know that living here with me will teach you not to hate me. I've missed you." He gazed at me, as if considering something. "And I'm sure a little time together isn't too much to ask for."

"Time together. _Right_." I rolled my eyes, standing up from my chair. "With Peeta in prison. How relaxing. _Peaceful_."

"I'll let him go." Gale said quietly, looking away. "If you agree to stay with me."

I swept a hand out over his desk, knocking several things off with an angry cry. "_Like hell you will,"_ And I was screaming again, for the millionth time today. "You're evil, Gale. I don't know where the boy I once knew is, I don't know him anymore. You capture my husband, you keep me prisoner here, you lead the Capitol, my _worst enemy,_ and act as if I will actually _agree to it_."

He stood up, too, and came over to me, ignoring how I backed away. "I'll let them go, I promise, Katniss. I may have took them in the first place, but it was just to get you. It's always been you." He was now on the verge of crying, and I didn't know if it was just acting. "All I've ever wanted is you. I'll let them go, all of them. Peeta, Finnick, everyone. I'll let all of them go back home. I just want you, Katniss. Stay with me. Please stay with me. I want my best friend back."

"Just don't, Gale," I had started crying, too, but only because he was. I'd barely ever seen him cry. It was one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever seen. And I almost believed him. "Please don't. I-I can't…" He took a step closer to me, and I covered a sob from my mouth with a hand.

"I miss you, Katniss, I miss my best friend." He was now pulling _that_ move on me, with his arms open and his face glistening. "Please stay, I miss you. I promise, you're not my prisoner. I promise, I'll let them go, I promise. I miss you, Katniss."

And when he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, I couldn't fight back. I just couldn't. I buried my face in his chest and sobbed. _What was I doing…? _This was stupid, I couldn't. But the feeling of Gale's arms around me again, I realized I had missed it, too. More than I should have. And before I knew it, I was hugging him back, telling him I missed him too.

There was a long moment where we just held each other and cried, but when we finally pulled away, Gale held my face in his hands.

"So you'll stay with me?" he whispered, eyes red and wet.

Damn it all.

"Y-You know I can't, Gale." I kept hiccupping. "You know I can't. But c-come home w-with me. You'll get to b-be with your family again, and we can hunt like-like the old times. Back home. Just let Peeta go."

He suddenly let go, backing away. And he looked upset. For a moment he stood there, motionless, but then he lifted his eyes up back to me. "I have a country to look after. And I want you here. I can't go back, you know I can't. I promised I'll let everyone go, and my word is good. But this has to be your choice. Your decision."

"It's not much of a decision," I whimpered, crossed my arms over my chest in pain all over again. "There seems to be no choice at all. Refuse and stay here as a prisoner, or accept and stay here as a prisoner."

"No, not a prisoner. I told you." Gale once again looked upset that I had suggested it. "You will never be my prisoner. The difference is your friends being released, and you know that it's easier to live with it if you accept it yourself and do exactly what you'd do if you didn't."

I was trembling as another wave of tears passed. "So you'll continue to hold my friends hostage if I don't agree."

"That's a harsh way of wording it, but yes."

I didn't answer. My back was halfway turned to him and my jaw was clenched. Damn Gale, damn the way he was manipulating me, damn him being the new leader of the Capitol, damn him and his choices-that-aren't-really-choices.

"We'll have a life together, Katniss." Gale said softly, making me open my eyes. "It won't be as miserable as you think."

I remained silent for another ten minutes. I couldn't stay here. I have a _kid_, I have a child growing inside of me. He needs a father, his _real_ father, he needs District 12 and his grandmother and aunts and Uncle Haymitch and being able to catch butterflies in the meadow and grow up with Jace. He needs a real _family_. I can't raise him here, and that's that. What would Peeta say if he knew I agreed to this? How long would I be forced to stay here, anyway? The rest of my life? Probably. That would mean Peeta'd wouldn't ever… No, Peeta is the father. He needs to be with me during this.

_Peeta_… You need to get out of here. That's the only thing I knew for certain besides the fact that I can't raise our kid here. But at least I'll get enough food and shelter. If it's a choice between Peeta going home but me having to raise our kid without him, and Peeta staying in a prison for the rest of his life but me being held captive here, trying to figure out a way to bust everyone out…

_For Peeta_… For you. I uncrossed my arms and turned to face him. My eyes stung and my face was wet and I was still hiccupping, but with what little dignity I had left, I swallowed and said, "Promise to let him go. To let all of them go."

Gale looked me square in the eye. "I promise."

Those two words rang through my head, and sounded like the end of the world. My life at least. With shaking legs, I walked back over to the arm chair, sat in it, put my head in my hands and cried.


	7. Chapter 7

_Okay, this chapter is going to be a little more explanatory than dramatic. I'm REALLY not good at projecting character's feelings into words, so if you think that Katniss doesn't seem nearly angry enough, I do apologize. My skills are lacking, for sure. _

**oOo**

**PEETA'S POV**

_10:13pm_

The rhythmic, booming pattern of a massive clock woke me from a sleep I wouldn't have wanted to stay in anyway. The first thing I was aware of was the screams of pain my wrist was shooting out. I could practically _feel_ the splinters of bone jabbing through my skin, every little nerve getting severed violently. A groan slipped out of my mouth and I tripped out of consciousness for a brief moment, before the pain bringing me back again.

The giant clock was actually the pounding of my own blood I could feel in my ears. It made it impossible to hear for a few minutes while I sat there on a cold section of floor, trying to remember who I was, where I was, and what happened to get me in the latter. While my brain worked on that, I pried open my eyes to chance a peek at my wrist. Bile flooded between my teeth. _Wrists aren't supposed to bend that way_. What had happened? Who had—?

A sharp memory of meaty hands right where the pain was stopped my mind mid-thought.

_Oh_.

My knees buckled as I forced myself onto them, cries of her name lost on my dry lips.

I was sitting in what was completely obvious to be a cell. A cold, iron-and-concrete, dark, completely barred in cell. Only one out of the four walls surrounding me was solid; the rest were made out of rusty black bars as thick as my fist running from ceiling to floor spaced out about a foot apart. In front of my cell was the long wall of a hallway and on the wall hung brackets that held flickering torches. There was no way anyone could possibly reach them, so I dismissed that possibility right away.

As I scanned my eyes back and forth, only taking a few minutes to peer into neighboring cells (I could see motionless shapes in every single one of them, but this did not perturb me). There was only one actual _door_ in sight, and that was inset in the wall about forty feet away. _I need to get out of here, and if that's my only way_… I licked my dry lips, finding only impossibility awaiting after those thoughts. Once I'd sufficiently sucked all positive possibilities from my situation, I sank back to my hand and knees to take several deep, frightened breaths. The last few minutes of my time with her were replayed in my head. I could hear my inaudible cry ring out as I watched the needle get jabbed into her arm.

_No, no, no_. They have her. They have Katniss. _My Katniss_.

Those shapes in the cells next to me… Maybe…

Careful not to have anything touch my mangled arm, I dragged myself over to one of the barred walls and press my face against the cold iron. "_Katniss_?" Even to myself, my voice sounded dry and ragged, vacant of all hope. "_Katniss,"_ I whispered again.

The shape moved, and for a fleeting moment, my heart leaped, but plummeted just as fast. The form of that person was too masculine; wiry and lithe. Through the dim orange light, I could see locks of curly, unwashed bronze hair hanging below his chin. The familiar shape of his eyes and jaw made me start.

It took the other prisoner two seconds before he scrambled upright, grabbing onto the bars between them. "_Peeta_?"

"Finnick?" I didn't know whether to be happy that I found Finnick, or sad that it wasn't Katniss. My heart was drowning in feelings I couldn't organize.

"Oh, god." He sank backwards and wrapped his arms around his knees. There was no more bravado or arrogance in his eyes—only fear and an unknown future. "Oh, god, oh god. You weren't supposed to get captured."

"I-I know… I—" I didn't know what to say. My throat closed up.

"Is-is Annie okay?" Finnick whispered apprehensively, looking over at me again. "Is everyone—Oh, _god_. You're—." He sucked in a huge, seemingly painful breath. "…Katniss."

Under normal circumstances, I would have laughed and said that I was not Katniss, obviously, but I just felt my face drain of all blood and hang low. Finnick saw my expression change and he hung his head, too, a look of pure dread pulling the corners of his mouth and eyes down.

"…I-I'm sorry," he said finally, looking so lost. "She's gone, too, isn't she?"

I felt myself rocking back and forth, clutching my head in my hands. "They took her, they took Katniss. I don't know where…where she's…" My lungs started doing these little seizures, causing me to choke on impending fits of tears. _Stop this_. I cannot have a breakdown right now. _But Katniss_… My Katniss. She's not here, she's— "She's pregnant." I said, burying my face in my fingers, no longer trying to cover up the frightened tears. "Katniss is pregnant and I didn't…I couldn't…"

Finnick sucked in another audible breath. "…_Damn." _Thankfully, he didn't say anything else to me then, just sitting back and letting me have a moment to let complete fear override my system.

Suddenly, the door away from us opened with a groaning shower of rust, and I snapped my head up. It was two guards, both in plain black clothes and a gun strapped into hostlers on their hips. One peeled left, walking all the way to the very last cell at the end, the other doing the same with the right side. Finnick and I watched them silently as each opened the cell in front of them, said a few words to the occupant, and proceeded to guide them out and back out the door. When they left, I turned my head slightly towards Finnick.

"Do you know what's going on?" My voice was the loudest thing in the room; all the other prisoners had fallen silent.

Finnick shook his head. "This has never happened…"

A few minutes after those guards left, two more came, taking away the next number of prisoners. It was just me, Finnick, and two others left on either side of us. They were wide awake, blinking around confusedly in the faint light. When the next guards came, I tried to strain my ears to hear what they were saying to the prisoners, but whatever it was, they didn't seem _too_ opposing to get up and follow the black-clad guards.

For some reason, a sudden rush of fear hit me, and I felt like this would be the last time for a while I'd be seeing Finnick. Before the last two guards would come in and drag us off, I turned quickly back to him and gripped his shoulder. "Annie's fine, Finnick," I whispered. "Ms. Everdeen and Prim are keeping her safe with them. Jace is fine, too."

The relief was obvious on my friend's face. It was only momentary, though. When his sad, green eyes opened again, they were not with questions about his family. "…Good luck, Peeta."

The guards came, and both of them were striding straight towards us.

"I hope you find her." He stood up, on shaky but proud limbs, when the soldiers opened his cell door.

Mine rattled, and I cast my squinting, pained gaze onto a burly man with great amount of facial hair.

Finnick was already being pulled away towards the door, expression confused and excited and hurt all at the same time. I said a mental goodbye to him, though that was all it could be, because the soldier stepped inside my cell and cleared his throat.

"You're release has been ordered," he said loudly, and I wondered why he hadn't been that loud with anyone else. "You're to follow me."

I stayed exactly where I was, sitting sprawled on the floor, glaring up at him. "Where's Katniss?"

He just scowled. "That's classified, Mr. Mellark. My orders were to take you back to the fleet and take you home."

"I'm not going without Katniss."

The guard looked highly annoyed. "Yes, you are."

With my steely gaze, I dared him to with everything inside me. Unless I was guaranteed to be with Katniss after getting out, I wasn't willing to get out at all.

The soldier stalked out of my cell, locked it behind him, and walked twenty feet to our right to a little metal box on the wall. He pressed the button and spoke into it. "Sir, we have a slightly problem with Mr. Mellark."

A small burst of static, then: "Well, what's the problem?"

Hatred flashed through my veins like fire. That was the voice of General Sawyer. Ivy's father or not, I loathed him almost as much as President Snow.

"He's refusing to leave without Ms. Everdeen."

I wanted to correct him, to spit the name Mellark onto his shoes, but I did neither.

General Sawyer made a pondering noise. "Hold on one second, Solider."

He did so, and neither of us moved a muscle for those few minutes.

More static. "He says to take him to the quarters under the library. He'll send Priam later. Drug him if you must."

Immediately, I shot onto my feet and tried to get into a defensive stance, but it was half-hearted. My body didn't work well enough to properly defend—or stand, really. In the end, I found myself cornered, and the needle pinched my arm, right before I collapsed.

_9:50pm_

**KATNISS' POV**

After the last of my tears subsided, the silence following was louder than my screaming had been a few minutes before. As I sat there, curled in a ball on the armchair, Gale did nothing. He had sat back in his chair and put his hand on his forehead, breathing deeply and quietly. I didn't know what he was thinking. I didn't really care. Though I was a little thankful he didn't try and come comfort me, I wanted _someone_ to be there. I wanted _Peeta_.

My arms tucked and loosened themselves from around my chest, fighting the urge to snort and stand up and straighten out the disgusting pastel skirt I was put it. I did nothing of the sort, keeping my gaze far away from Gale's. There was really no point in doing—or saying—anything at that point. My head was too full of thoughts to particularly care. Words wouldn't even fully form in my head, it was just pictures and feelings and the occasional question floating around, bouncing off the edges of my skull.

"I'll call Elizabeth back for you, Katniss," Gale said in a somewhat calm voice, standing up. A button on the desk was pressed and he leaned into the speaker. "Please send Miss Prentiss back to my study, Tessie."

A garbled female voice answered promptly. "Yes, Mr. Hawthorne."

Hearing his last name spoken aloud hurt my heart. This was real, I told myself. Too real. Gale's alive. He's the new leader of the Capitol. I'm not his prisoner. Nothing made sense to me, though I knew somehow, somewhere it did. It's like the weirdest puzzle known to mankind puzzle. The pieces were all there but they didn't fit up. I could scoot them close together and see the picture, but it had big gaps in it, cracks that—no matter what the big picture was—made it ugly and broken. Right now I was working on the edge pieces, calming myself slightly by closing my eyes, taking ten deep breaths, and writing a mental list of everything I was positive of.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen. _

_The Capitol is still standing._

_Gale's is_ not _dead. _

_On the contrary, he's the head of the Capitol._

_Peeta and Finnick and a number of other victors are currently being held prisoner. _

_They will be released._

_I am to stay with Gale for who-knows-how-long, doing who-knows-what._

_I am pregnant._

_I am screwed._

The list seemed good so far, but I had no time to continue it, because I felt a gentle hand on my wrist. Knowing it was not Gale's, I peeked my eyes open suspiciously and looked up into a freckled, young face, and mostly definitely female. My lovely new Avox friend was hovering over me, a face of concern turning the corners of her mouths downwards. Part of me wanted to yank away when she put her fingers around mine, but I yearned so much for a thing of comfort, so I did no such thing.

She seemed glad at my acceptance, and proceeded helping me to my feet. Gale was giving her a furrow-browed look, as if saying, _How come YOU can make her obey? _I just turned my face away insolently, ready to march out the door and go destroy something he treasured dearly. After all that happened, I remained mystified at why in the world he was doing this—the Gale I knew before would never do anything like that. Mystified wasn't quite the right word, though. More like…infuriated. I didn't care so much as _why_, I found.

Elizabeth stopped her guiding at the study door, turning back with a curious look. My gaze followed hers and I found Gale's grey eyes boring into my back.

"…I thought I might let you know that no one thinks we're cousins anymore." He looked mildly uncomfortable, running his fingernail along the groove in the wooden desk behind him. "I sort of…'let slip', now everyone knows. So, just…"

My teeth started to ache with having ground them so much in the past few days. "How convenient. Not that incest seems so wild here, but…"

Elizabeth looked absolutely mortified.

I shot her an apologetic look before turning my steely glower at the boy—no, _man_—standing there behind us. "I'm not impressed, Gale. Really. I have no idea what you'll gain from this aside from an enemy and, if you're lucky, another welt on your cheek. And don't follow me," I added when he took a step forwards me after I'd started walking out the door again. "I really don't want to see your face again for a while."

The quiet, controlled demeanor I had forced myself into when the Avox had come melted away fast. Though I did my best to control my tears and screams of anger as Elizabeth and I walked back down the massive public corridor, "walk" soon turned to "run". Tears prickled my eyes like tiny needles, as the same needles nested in my gut. A low, painful stab of pain ran through the middle of my abdomen. Thankfully, I managed to make it to the nearest trashcan (which happened to be a mostly-full one being carted away by a Capitol worker, who didn't look pleased) before cleansing myself of everything that was in my stomach. Most of it was bile, but _dang_ that was a lot of bile.

Elizabeth put her arm around my shoulders sympathetically and, once I was done heaving, began guiding me back to my room. I caught her motioning to two young men in white doctor's coats some feet away, but I shook my head vigorously. No need to draw more attention to myself. I wasn't sick, unless you counted being disgusted _at_ someone.

From the outside, I could easily identify my room (surprisingly enough) even though I wasn't feeling my best. There were no uniformed guards standing erect on either side of the door, no special metal bars over it with padlocks the size of dinner plates, or glass panes or anything. It was a simple mahogany door, with a simple brass doorknob and a little plastic square swinging on the knob, saying "PRIVATE QUARTERS: DO NOT ENTER". Any other rooms that meant the same needed no words to get their point across.

When I took a better look, there happened to be someone standing watch of my room in place of guards. It was another girl, sporting not a uniform or white dress clothes the Avox's back in the day were forced to wear, but a simple yellow blouse and trousers. She looked a few years younger than Elizabeth—I would guess ten (for what a ten-year-old could do to earn the position of an Avox was beyond me). She was a slight child, with small feet and small hands and a small button nose over a bowtie mouth. Gold-brown hair was pulled back into two braids that reached the middle of her back, and slate-blue eyes peered anxiously at me, as if I was going to lash out and bite at any moment.

When Elizabeth and the young girl saw one another, they began making quick hand motions, too fast to even _try_ and interpret (sign language, I guessed, but I was not familiar with it). At one particular motion, the younger girl stopped and looked alarm, shooting her big, pretty eyes from me to Elizabeth.

My Avox nodded.

Cautiously, as if handling a bomb, the younger girl put her hand into her pocket and drew out a pen and a notebook the exact same as Elizabeth's. With it, she flipped to one of the pages and started to scribble. When she handed it to me, she only gripped the pages with two fingers, letting go immediately after I'd taken it.

_**My name is Aprilynne.**_

__I could hardly read the scrawled writing, but when I deciphered the words, I handed the pad back to the girl—Aprilynne—and sighed. Part of me wanted to reach out to these girls and protect them, smooth their hair and comfort them. But for one, this was _the Capitol_. If I was to comfort anyone it would be myself. And two, Aprilynne seemed like someone who would not appreciate me trying to comfort her at that particular moment, seeming as untrusting and skittish as Buttercup was when Prim first found him. _I don't blame her, _my thoughts said quietly, though my heart had cried at the cat's name. And of course, Buttercup made me remember Prim, which made me remember everyone else I'd left. They'd think Peeta and I were dead. No... This was the exact thing I was trying to avoid.

My throat swelled with itchy warmth, sign of unwanted tears threatening to make a reappearance. I needed to call them. How in the world was I to do that as a prisoner? Perhaps I can use what Gale said (claiming I'm not prisoner) to do that, but I had my doubts.

Only acknowledging the girl with a small, sad nod, I walked past her and shoved myself into the room that was mine until further notice. My mouth tasted like sick and my legs were on the verge of buckling, but I managed to drag myself to the bathroom and use the marble countertops for support as I washed my mouth out. The water tasted nearly as foul as the bile, but I drank anyways. It soothed my chapped lips, but halfway through filling my insides with liquid, I realized _just_ how hungry I was. My stomach screamed in pain and made my legs shake even more.

My little Avox girls—who had been waiting outside the bathroom—came in and tried to help me. Elizabeth was the only one "brave" enough to come in physical contact with me. She swept my hair back and touched my shoulder reassuringly, while Aprilynne just shuffled around us, trying to hand her elder Avox a wet cloth. When the younger Avox saw me gag a bit after drinking, she brought a cup up to the tip of a faucet to my left and handed it to me. It tasted a thousand times better than the water I'd been drinking. It made me wonder if I'd poisoned myself.

"What…" I swallowed, in too much physical and mental pain to care about the gestures of unsure affection. "What day is it?"

With a face that looked nothing but proud, Elizabeth held up seven fingers.

I choked on the water, spitting it back out into the sink. "The _seventh_?"

Both of the girls then got a little uneasy, nodding their heads slowly.

That made my face screw up. It was nearing the end of June fourth when Peeta and I got captured. And now it was the seventh. Had that drug really knocked us out for three days? I needed to have another nice long chat with Gale. Maybe some more screaming. It seemed to have no effect on him. He didn't seem to care what I felt. Evil… No wonder I was so hungry, though. I hadn't eaten for that long. I needed food, though it'd probably just come back up. My stomach whined again, agreeing with me.

I propped my elbows up on the countertop, wiping a hand down my face. "What _time_ is it?"

Elizabeth tapped me on the shoulder (I looked up) and pointed to a clock high above the vanity mirror. It was large and set into the wall, with hands and numbers to match the color of the wallpaper. I wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't pointed it out. If it was indeed right, it was ten at night. What…? I automatically looked back out into my room, and sure enough, the sun was still shining brighter than ever outside. I glanced in confusion at one of my Avox's. She shrugged and nodded.

Feeling worse than ever, I cleared my throat and shuffled past them back into my room. When they tried to follow, I shook my head. "Please go. Please. Both of you."

They did as they were told, with only slightly sad expressions. Aprilynne looked grateful. The second they were gone, I ripped off my pretty pink clothing (making sure they _ripped_), tossed the pieces into a corner, grabbed one of my knives from the dresser and crawled under the covers of my huge 4-poster bed. Though I started sweating in no time, I stayed under and forced myself to sleep. It came like a wrecking ball.

I woke up to footsteps for the second time this week. It wasn't fair, my life, but the only thing in my head when I shot upright was _AAHHHH! _andI brandished the 6-inch knife I'd fallen asleep with. My lungs heaved and sweat plastered my hair to my forehead, but it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. Through the curtain, the sky glowed a sherbet of sunrise, enough to see shapes in my room if I squint. Blocking out some of the light was a silhouette right in front of the open curtains.

"_You watch me sleep?"_ I hissed, gathering the blankets up to cover myself up more. I really wished I'd kept something on. My little habit of falling asleep naked when I was distressed finally caught up with me.

Gale was standing, only his shadow giving away the position in which he stood to watch me. I could see his hands bent to fit into his pockets, and his head cocked slightly. "Sorry," he said, not sounding it. "When Aprilynne and Elizabeth came to tell me how upset you were I got worried. But you were asleep when I came."

"That's disgusting." I wanted more than anything to get up and shove him out. "Get out."

As my eyes attuned themselves to the lack of light, I could see his face. It was apologetic. "I'm worried, Katniss."

"You'd better be. Worried that I'll stick this knife in your gut if you don't get the hell out." That was very harsh, but I didn't feel like being a sugar princess to him after everything. He kidnapped me and people I loved, forced me to stay with him, and to top all that off, I caught him watching me sleep naked. If that didn't make someone want to stab the other, I don't know what would.

Gale frowned and pulled his hands out of his pockets. "Don't be upset at me, Katniss. I _am_ sorry. The blankets covered you up. All I saw was your face, I had no idea you were..." Through the dim light of morning, I could have sworn he was blushing.

It's the thought that counts,_ Gale_. I kept my teeth firmly gritted because I was in risk of spouting very foul language at him. But neither of us said—or _did_—anything. The pause was very painful and long. Gale didn't leave. He kept gazing at me with his deep, unfathomable eyes. I wished he wouldn't.

"If I may, I'd like to give you a tour. After breakfast, of course. It'd suit you to get dressed." He gave me the tiniest smile, and turned to exit again. "I'll be waiting outside."

I stared at the door after it closed, leaving me alone once again. The hand that held the knife shook, so I gently set it down on the small nightstand next to the bed, next to my spare belongings.

Elizabeth and Aprilynne were not in here with me, that much was obvious. I slid my feet out of the covers and shuffled self-consciously into the door I knew to be the huge walk-in closet. The air was slightly chilly on my bare body, but I soon found a pair of clothing that made a very normal-looking outfit to cover myself up with. I hated dressing myself in clothes from the Capitol, but I decided that it was best to try and always be wearing clothes when I'm around Gale. I've made that mistake one too many times.

There were no shoes, but I didn't care much as I shuffled out the room after Gale. I didn't even look at him. An unformed escape plan itched in my head, making me more and more agitated with every step I took. My brain argued with itself, and none of the questions would answer themselves. There were so many chinks in what little scraps of an idea I have, it was hardly an idea. It was more like stating the obvious.

"Katniss," Gale's voice made me peek upwards, and I found him wandering off some ten feet to my left, when I kept going ahead. Scowling at the floor, I turned and kept following.

When it came to what happened, I was shocked. Frozen. Upset. There weren't words for my confused aching in my straining heart. Shocked was an understatement. Frozen was hardly the case. Upset was an unknown word when I tried applying it to how I was feeling right them. I knew that it'd really hit me later, that right then I was just in denial, but I couldn't get it past my stubborn head the predicament I was actually in. All I was able to do was stumble blindly after Gale, trying to find some emotion to bring to the surface. None came. I felt like a robot.

My child… What about my child? This was the exact thing I was trying to avoid when I swore not to have any kids. Things like _this_ happened. Tears budded in my eyes at the thought. My child, my baby. Would I have to raise her—or him—in here? In the Capitol? I _couldn't_. Being held captive, free but not really free, here was almost as worst as dooming a kid to seven years of the possibility of getting reaped. This was what I was trying to _escape_. I can't do this. I can't raise a freaking kid without its father. I needed Peeta…I needed to get the hell out of this place.

Without entirely meaning to, I pounded my fist once on the nearest wall and let out a loud scream of frustration. Tears bit my eyes like fire, and I yanked away from Gale when he tried to put a hand on my shoulder to comfort me.

"Never _mind, _Gale," I hissed, furiously wiping away the saltwater, ignoring the nasty bruise building on my hand. "I'm fine."

I've said that too much in the past few weeks. Only 75% of the time it was the truth.

Deep grey eyes blinked at me, holding my unwanted gaze for a few seconds before Gale shook his head sadly. "Okay." He took one step back in the way of our destination, but turned to look back at me briefly. "Are you alright with food right now? You're not going to…you know…blow chunks?"

"I said I'm fine."

Gale sighed, turning back. "Please tell me if you need or want anything."

My lips pursed so nothing else would come out. A rolling gurgle tossed my stomach upside-down and back again. It whined, and I could tell only a fraction of its pain was hunger. To be honest, the stomachache was split into two. The other was low, under my intestines that I knew very well as a girl. Though, I knew it wasn't the usual cramping. Was she—or he—in distress? Perhaps she's sensing the lack of nutrients in my own body. Perhaps…. I knew my mother had a miscarriage way back when she was first married to my father. I prayed to whatever god there was out there that these pains weren't like _that_.

"Here," Gale stopped at a half-circle shaped corridor and into an inset pair of doors. He opened one of them wide for me and tried smiling gentleman-like as I hesitantly shuffled through, arms crossed over my stomach. "We'll get some Avox's to f—"

"No Avox!" I said quickly, wincing internally at the memories. "Why do you still enslave them?"

His eyebrows arched, insulted. "I don't enslave them, Katniss. I _told_ you, when I came here they—"

"Just _shut up_." Scowling and sniffling with upset, I ignored the massive (and indeed empty) dining room and began scuffling my feet around the enormous table to face a few more doors around the side of the room. "Which door is the kitchen?"

Making a face, Gale pointed noiselessly at the door second closest to me.

This was testing my skills. For years I've been an apprentice of several cooks that could make porridge and bread a work of art. I made them practice patience because I simply _couldn't cook_. Everything I made failed. Now, facing a professional kitchen the size of the living room at home, I had every piece of food and every tool to cook with imaginable. What did I choose to make? After raiding all of the walk-in pantries and fridges and freezes, I found a can of normal peanut butter and a fresh loaf of bread. Gale watched with surprised, amused eyes as I made myself a peanut butter sandwich and sat on one of the countertops to eat it with a scowl on. A glass of water was also poured and sipped down with my food.

_Plan: Convince Gale to give me a tour and steal one of the hovercrafts._

_Why that would go wrong: Tour, I could pull off. Stealing one of the hovercrafts was just about impossible._

A sick feeling was growing in my stomach as I began devouring another sandwich. Peanut butter quelled most of my hunger, but my fragile stomach was not taking the sudden bout of nutrition (if peanut butter was nutrition, which I wasn't so sure).

_Plan: Convince him to give me a tour outside and then make a run for it._

_ Why that would go wrong: Hm… Running 5,000 miles across the country. Let's see what's wrong with that equation._

"You look a little green," Gale grimaced and tried to take the loaf of bread and peanut butter from me, but I yanked it back, still feeling hungry. He sighed. "Maybe you should stop eating so many peanut butter sandwiches. That's your fifth."

I glanced down at my food and pondered this for a split second before shooting him a glare and stuffing a corner into my mouth.

_Plan: Seduce a hovercraft driver to free me._

_ Why that would go wrong: Honestly? I couldn't sink that low if I TRIED. Good lord._

A violet shudder ran up my body, and I bent over the sink thinking I was going to hurl again, but nothing came up. Saltwater traced down my face as I lay there stretched across the counters, cheek on the cold metal edge of the sink, on the verge of throwing up. Never mind my pride; that had been jeopardized so long ago. When Gale tried putting his hand on my shoulder, I tried hitting him. It didn't work.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," Gale said, as if it was his fault I just ate nearly half a dozen peanut butter sandwiches after not eating anything for four days pregnant. "Would you like a doctor to come—?"

"No." I hiccupped, not looking at him. "I'm fine."

He didn't look convinced, but dropped the subject nevertheless. Keeping an appropriate distance from me, he cleared his throat uncomfortable. "I was planning on giving you a tour, if you're up to it."

Wiping my eyes and sliding stiffly from the counter, I said nothing. My head bobbed once in a nod. Apparently, he was not discouraged, because he tried a smile at me (I didn't return it, of course) and walked slowly to the kitchen door to make sure I was following. When he was sure I was, we both walked from the dining room.

"That was one of our semi-private dining sectors," Gale told me once we were out. "It's meant for dinner meetings and things like that, rarely used."

I listened half-heartedly. My head reeled as we walked the perimeter of the half-circle corridor, Gale pointing out what was behind doors along the way.

"This chunk of hallway is where a lot of activity goes on. That door right there leads to one of the many staircases," he said, pointing to an important-looking doorway. "And that one leads off to the hovercraft fleet. We won't see that today, but it is its own story, with a launch pad directly on the roof and repair rooms and all this stuff. It's a pretty big ordeal."

I could feel the nutty paste trying to slide through my arteries without much success. It tasted so good, I was really craving more. The last thing I was going to do was to ask Gale to go back and eat again, though.

"That leads to an observatory deck and greenhouse, and through that door is the main office. Technically, that belongs to me, but I don't use it much."

I had to look away, wanting to rub my aching heart. Why _him?_

A thoughtful glint appeared in his eyes. "It has just about every important recording on file in there. It's very interesting. Much more fun than the library."

Part of me was overcome with curiosity, so much I had to fight myself to keep my footfall behind Gale's instead of to the room. All the secrets the Capitol has kept, all the plans they'd made… I wondered if I could read some. Most likely not, but if I gained Gale's trust more… No. No, stop that. Don't even consider acting as though this could have its advantages. It doesn't. Shut up.

Maybe, if I was here long enough… He couldn't possibly keep me for the rest of my life. I tried pulling the image up in my mind; me, wrinkly and bent with the weight of years on my shoulders, my kid by my side with a lovely Capitol girl by his own, an entire family of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. They all had facelifts and rubies embedded into their foreheads. Try as I might, the image just wouldn't form.

"Down that hallway you can see another division of rooms, most of which are less lavish than yours and mostly empt—"

"Gale," I interrupted, sounding much more sane and strong than I felt. "How long are we going to do this?"

His footsteps faltered a little, and he turned his head three-quarters towards me so I could see one of his eyes. "This tour? Do you want to go back?"

Irritation flickered in me for a second before it got quelled by a lack of energy to be physically angry right then. "No. I meant how long I'm going to be held captive."

"It's not captivity, K—"

"Shut up and answer the goddamn question, Gale."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "…I…I'm not sure."

I rolled my eyes and felt my lips turn up in a sneer. "Well that's just _great_. You didn't think any of this out?"

"I did, actually. For months." Gale sighed. "I wish you could stay. Or I go back home, or something. I don't want there to be an end to seeing you."

Be quiet already… Saying all those things doesn't change the facts.

"There's only so long you can go trying to 'convince' someone of something," I pointed out dryly, watching a pair of mutated young people compare teeth implants. "The only thing worse than your 18-year-old ex-best friend hating you at this point is your 90-year-old ex-best friend hating you."

My humor wasn't appreciated.

Gale genuinely looked wounded. "…I know that, Katniss. I could say 'I'm sorry' a thousand times but it would mean the same as when I first said it." He paused to sadly point out a large trash disposal to our left. "I know I can't have you forever. You're obviously not liking twenty-four hours."

"You wouldn't like it either!" I spat, balling my hands into fists.

"Calm down. I know." He kept saying that, but I doubted he _did_ know. "I was trying to say something important." A sigh bubbled form his throat. "You're still the same old Katniss. Born to argue."

I wanted so badly to kick his shin.

"Anyways, as I was saying, I can't have you forever." Gale's harsh look stopped me from interrupting him for the millionth time. "I want to make you a deal."

We walked past a small door inset into a wall in a hallway that seemed to be solely for that single door. It looked sort of camouflaged against the wall, but I knew it was a door because of the two burly, heavily-armed guards standing on either side of it. When I peered inquisitively over there, Gale tugged my arm to hurry forwards, not explaining. I smacked away his touch, but couldn't help but wonder what was behind that door.

"I don't like your deals," I said honestly, grinding my teeth together. "'Stay hostage and I'll let your friends free from prison or stay hostage and I won't let your friends free from prison.'"

He scowled sourly, but didn't try to argue. We both knew that it was a lost cause. "I wish you would stop calling it that. This deal is better, though. Balcony," Gale pointed to a door and we walked quietly over and stepped out into open air.

I sucked in a sudden breath. It was cold, surely, but even when back home was this temperature, it felt…different. Heavier somehow. Up here, many, many feet above the sea of trees, it tasted crisp and dry and fresh.

"A lifetime is not acceptable," Gale interrupted my awed reverie, and I was forced to look back at him unpleasantly. "But… I want to keep you long enough for you to be able to change your mind."

"Gale, I had six years to decide if I loved you or not." The memories were too painful to cast my thoughts back on. Back when things were relatively okay between us.

"I want to give you another few years, though." His face was turned away from me in the opposite direction.

The ocean was behind us, I knew, because my room had been on the left and we had walked onto this balcony on the right. No sea was in sight right then as we gazed over the wilderness. Mountains were visible on the horizon, peeking their tiny tops up out of the miniscule trees.

"If you're still not happy in five years, I'll send you home. No arguing, no bribery. You wouldn't even have to say goodbye to me if you didn't want to."

"Five years?" I yelled indignantly, balling my fists again at him. My teeth gritted harshly and I let my glare pierce through the back of his head. "You're insane! Why the hell would I _ever_ agree to that?"

Gale shrugged casually. "It's a lot better than forever."

I was fuming. My chest heaved in and out with every upset breath and the slight breeze did nothing to sway my bristled position. "You said it's a deal. If five years is on one end of it, what's on the other?"

This actually made his mouth turn into a small frown, eyebrows furrowing with uncertainty. "…I haven't really worked it out that far, to be honest. Maybe I should rephrase what I said."

Gale paused for a few seconds, eyes narrowed in thought out over the forest. The silence gave me a moment for my mind to wander where it wouldn't have otherwise wandered, somewhere untroubled by thoughts of my situation. Like how Alaska looked more intact than half of what used to be North America. Flying across the country, I could see scars from the past littered around. Nuclear wastelands, patches of burnt forest, abandoned cities with the skyscrapers crumbled to the ground and bleached-white skeletons barely visibly sticking from odd-looking cars and buildings. The nuclear meltdown of 2100 had wiped out _everything_, mutating animals and destroying society. It was hard to go a day in the lower part of what used to be North America without having someone sick with leftover radiation poison floating around in the form of smog. You would have thought a good 200 years would have cleaned the place up, but no.

Alaska looked untouched, so clean and pure. The sun remained a sickly-looking red, as it always did, but no smog or burnt patches or ruined cities were visible from my perch in this ancient mansion. Or was it not ancient? Perhaps I'd ask Gale some time later.

"Okay." Gale cleared his throat, forcing my eyes to tear away from the scenery. "How about this: 'If you're not happy in five years I'll send you home,' _period_."

I crossed my arms over my chest, letting my eyelids slip into a menacing glare. "There's no way you can make me live five years here with you."

To my surprise, he suddenly let out a loud, aggravated noise of frustration. He threw his hands into the air, glowering. "I'm trying to make this _easy_ for you. I _know_ you don't like being here with me, I _know_ you hate me, I _get that_, Katniss, okay? I understand. For once in your life, think about someone other than yourself, for God's sake!"

"Like you?" I spat. "Why the hell would I be worried about your feelings when _you_ are the one kidnapping me! I don't care less what you want from me. All I want is to _go home_." Angry tears threatened to bud in my eyes, but I forced them away. "I left Primrose and Mother and Annie and Finnick and their baby son Jace. I left Ivy and Caroline and Lucia and Benj and Anna-Mae. Peeta and I left with my family and friends thinking we're _dead_, you're insane."

A small tremble appeared in Gale's shoulders and he leaned heavily on the balcony rails. "… I'm…I'm sorry about them. If…if you stay with me, I'll let you send them a letter. Telling them you're okay."

"So now you're bribing me, huh?" My throat got briefly closed up and I tried swallowing. A shaky gasp cleared it away and I had to breathe for a minute to regain the ability to talk coherently. My cheeks were wet and I was losing an internal battle with myself. It split my heart into two. "…Not five years, Gale. You have no idea what I risked running away. _No idea_. Not just my life. Not just Peeta's."

"Whose, then?"

Crap. I shouldn't have said anything. _Damn_. I turned my head away from him and wiped the saltwater away briskly. "No one, okay? I just can't do this."

"Whose life, Katniss?" Gale's grey eyes bored into my own.

"No one's, Gale, no one's," I hissed, shivering away from him as though his gaze hurt me physically. I had to make up my mind right then. I had to weigh the stakes and consequences of it. Every word mattered. I didn't know what I was doing… "Fine, then." I swallowed. "_Fine. _I'll stay, okay? You let everyone go and you let me send a letter to my family and…and don't you _dare_ force me to do anything I don't want to do. If I was in my right mind I'd just leap right off this balcony, but I have things to live for. I'll stay, but…but not for five years."

Only the relief in Gale's eyes showed exactly how he felt. His face betrayed nothing. "Thank you, Katniss. Really. We'll work out the years thing as we go along. I just want you to be as least miserable as possible here. I know, quite a feat, but I can't leave, and I can't just send you a happy little invitation asking you to come to the Capitol and spend some time with your dead best friend. Even you would know how that would turn out. This seemed like the only way to get to see you. I couldn't just let you think I was dead."

"…Seemed to work out for the past year," I grumbled, looking down at the floor. Was it shame I felt stirring in my chest? As much as I hated admitting it, I knew what he meant.

Gale sighed, giving me an exasperated look. "Understand I have responsibilities, alright? And I was assigned to one back when we were little." To my confused look, a tired smile touched his lips. "You're my best friend, Katniss. I'm responsible for watching out for you. As much as you don't like hearing, I'm still watching your back. Making sure you're happy back home. Feeding your friends, keeping open that candy shop even though you were pretty much the only person going there. I even made sure Ivy and Caroline got to District 12, knowing what would happen and how soft-hearted you were."

My blush turned to bewilderment quicker than I thought possible. "How did you know about Ivy and Caroline?"

A small grin appeared on his face, as if he was delighted in hearing at least one of his attempts had not been in vain. "I knew them back in District 13. Caroline's son used to do odd jobs around there a whole lot, to earn a little extra money for the family. I saw him often when I used to drop off game. A few times Ivy was there, too, and even Lucia and Caroline. Though we weren't quite past just acquaintances, we knew each other's names and said 'hi' whenever we saw each other. And when I became…well, whatever I am now, I sent a letter to the people back in District 13 to specifically make sure they were sent to 12."

I felt kind of sick that Gale's hand touched my sweet friends. There was also a small amount of jealousy. They were _my_ friends… "Was it just irony that General Sawyer happened to be Ivy's and Aden's father?"

"Ah…" His face screwed up. "Mostly, yes. I'll leave it at that."

Silence between us followed. It wasn't near as painful as before, but I was still confused and hurt. I wanted so bad to still be upset at Gale—and I was—but after hearing him talk about all of that, I questioned my thoughts. Every time I was on the verge of maybe almost forgiving him for a few seconds, I had to remind myself that I was _pregnant_, for Pete's sake. Would this mean I'd have to give birth and raise my kid for the first few years of his life here? With luck, he wouldn't remember it later on, but still. Peeta would have to be with me. That wasn't even a question.

I wanted to argue more with Gale about that. I wanted to scream in his face that I was carrying Peeta's child, and if he didn't let me go I'd throw him off the balcony and go on a huge killing rampage and steal a fleet of hovercrafts and crash them somewhere in the ocean by "accident". Which would solve anything, of course, but at least it might get me my way. But what really would happen if I told him I was expecting? Would he treat me any different? Would he change his mind about letting Peeta go and tortured him until he died? I couldn't have that.

A sigh interrupted my thoughts. Gale was rubbing his five-o-clock shadow with a hand, leaning against the rail with the other. "We should be getting back in. There's a lot more I have to work out. People are wondering why they see the Mockingjay wandering around in our halls." He smiled a miniscule smile at me, which was still not returned. "Is there anything else you'd like to…ask, or anything?"

I breathed in the sweet, clean air and cast my gaze out one more time over the Alaskan wilderness. "…No. I think I'd like to write that letter, though." The pieces of my split heart sat somewhere on my stomach at the thought of Mother and Primrose sitting at home, crying, knowing what had happened to me. I felt a little better sending the letter, but how would I know he actually sent it?

Part off me was convinced he would. Gale wasn't out to do anything evil. He just…loved me, I suppose. Though he had a weird way of showing it, he didn't want to hurt me (any more than necessary). But then again, even I knew that there was a fine line between evil and in love. Who knows what one would do?

**oOo**

_Sorry about the choppy ending, I wasn't sure what to write. SOOOOOOOO…. I haven't written an A/N for you guys in a while (other than the one at the beginning, which didn't count). I wanted the full effect to soak in, without me interrupting the feeling, so no hard feelings? _

_What do you guys think about this so far? Freaky? Totally awesome? Do you hate Gale or understand his motives? I'm not sure which side I stand on, but this certainly makes everyone think differently… _

_As for the baby's name issue, I'm going to come up with something 100% different from anything I've suggested, so it's a surprise. Hope you guys will like it._

_Now, another VERY important matter. If any of you have read Lo and Behold and/or Gravity, you probably know my little habit of dragging things on. A lot. Either that or rushing it. I have an issue with perfectly pacing my writing, but I'm trying to do better with this story. Next chapter is going to be a few days later, and I have this sneaking suspicion it'll seem quite rushed, but I'll do my best to help that. Just letting you know, alright? Don't judge for my skills (or lack thereof). I'm still young and still learning. _

_Happy November, all, hope your days are fabulous, etc. _

_May the odds be ever in your favor,_

_Soggy _


	8. Chapter 8

_BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA I am so evil. Please don't hate me for these next few chapters. Please. I know, I'm evil. A lot of you definitely had something to say. Some were all, "Oh, I knew it was Gale." Some were all, "GALE? WTFFF?" Some were worried I'd make him and Kat fall in love (BAH), some wanted Katniss to tell him she was pregnant. The whole thing I liked reading was whose side you're on. Do you understand and forgive Gale because it was all out of love? Or do you hate his freakin guts for even TOUCHING Peeta's baby-mama? That was so nice._

_Thank you ALLLLL for the reviews. Enjoy this chapter!_

**oOo**

**PEETA'S POV**

I woke up in a bed. It was comfortable and soft, with a billion pillows propping up my head. Dim light made the insides of my eyelids glow orange as I lay there still half-conscious. It took me a few seconds to remember what had happened, but when I did, it hit me instantly and I bolted upright. The pain I _didn't_ feel made me shake my head, disoriented, and I looked down at my hand. It had been wrapped up in strange bandages that had sort of fused together and turned as hard as a rock. I could already feel the bones mending.

Slowly, I lifted my head and swept my eyes around the room I was in. It was most definitely not a prison cell. Though not entirely decked out in the richest decorations possible, it was obvious the owners were not of Panem (or, at least…). It felt like I was back in the Capitol, except it didn't feel as high-tech and metal. There were thick drapes and high walls and brilliantly designed lamps and fuzzy maroon carpeting.

The bed springs didn't make a single noise when I swung my legs off and stood up. Funnily enough, I felt…fine, dare I say it. I couldn't even feel the sores where I'd gotten jabbed with a needle twice in a row. My wrist felt fine, my muscles felt fine (despite all the exercise I'd gotten running), I even felt well-rested. My brain even felt in tip-top shape, enough to be scared out of my mind.

_Where's Katniss?_

A short click sounded from behind me and I whirled around. Confusion froze me for a millisecond, and I blinked in perplexity. A man was standing there. He was tall and much too thin, like when he was ten years old he stopped growing sideways and just grew _up_. The man's pale face was stretched tight and was permanently petrified in a surprised, anomalous expression, with what looked like bits of metal embedded into his temples. Needle-thin eyebrows were arched above violet eyes with no pupils. Despite the smile stretched across his puffy lips, I didn't feel any more comfortable.

"I apologize for bursting in, Mr. Mellark," the man said in a high-pitched accent that I recognized. It didn't work trying to ignore the sense of dread creeping up on me. "I am the head's second in advisory, Ode Priam." Priam stuck out a pale, spidery-like hand for me to shake, but I just stared at him, jaw unhinged and gaping.

There were a million questions I wanted to ask, but several times, I had to remind myself not to jump to conclusions. Shivering slightly, I managed to stand up straight, tilt my chin, and say, "Where's Katniss?"

Priam shrugged his thin shoulders at me and walked slowly around to stand a few feet from me. "I'm not too sure, actually. That _is_ classified, as you might have heard."

"What's going on?" I sounded a lot stronger than I felt. In reality, I was struggling.

"Ah, yes." The frightening bony man smiled and clapped his hands as though this was an extremely exciting topic for him. "Though most of that is classified as well, Mr. Mellark, I'd be happy to explain what I can." He happily sat on the end on my bed and patted the spot next to him with another creepy smile.

I kept my jaw firm and didn't move at all except to cross my arms.

"Very well." Priam thought nothing of my refusal. "Anyhow, Miss Katniss is safe, I assure you."

"Where is she?"

"You're starting to annoy me, I'm afraid." He cocked his head with mild interest and continued. "She's elsewhere, being given a tour of the building. The hands she's in are very good. I'm sure even _she'd_ agree with that."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes up at the ceiling. "I doubt it."

Priam wrinkled his flat snake nose. "Oh no, I'm sure she's absolutely fine. My boss is very fond of her, see. He'd never let her get hurt. She's perfectly fine here, I promise you."

"What about Finnick? And everyone else? I assume you are the people kidnapping the rest of the victors, am I right?" My chest began aching slightly, wanting nothing more than to close my eyes and open them again to find Katniss in my arms and the curtains drawn over a pink District 12 sunrise. Of course, that was not happening, so I kept my eyes open and obstinate.

"Oh yes, but see, they've all been released. Everyone but you and Miss Katniss remains." Priam's violet eyes narrowed slightly and his nose wrinkled again as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. "That's where our problem lies, Mr. Mellark."

"I'm not leaving without Katniss, if that's what you mean." I knew I'd get tired of saying quick. I felt fidgety and jumpy, wanting to cut to the quick and get Katniss and go home. _Our child, my child…._ How was that supposed to happen?"

The other man sighed. "That's what I was afraid of. Because if you won't leave willingly—"

"You'll make me leave by force. Yeah, yeah. Look, all I want is Katniss. Have whatever else you want, but let her go. She can't…be here. You don't know, but she _literally_ can't be here." Wherever "here" was…

Making a gaudy wave of his hand, Priam scoffed lightly. From his pocket he took out a handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. "I'm sure she'll be released one way or another _some_time. But I'm afraid it isn't in my power to give her to you. And whom the power belongs to…. Well, let's just say he won't be at all eager doing anything of the sort, Mr. Mellark."

My nails bit into the palm of my uninjured hand; the broken bones of my other whining. "I don't care what you inject into me; I'm _not leaving without Katniss_."

The smile that stretched across the man's face scared me more than the supposed kind ones. It sent shivers down my spine, looking into the alien face. Priam stood up and tucked the handkerchief back into the inside pocket of his dress jacket. "Then I'm afraid you're not leaving any time soon." He turned to leave. "I do hope you like this room I chose for you; something tells me you'll be in it for a while." And with a funny twitch of his head, Ode Priam opened the door and walked out, the echoing click of the loud all that was left of him.

Images of the Capitol painted pure terror into the back of my skull and I dropped to my knees with the weight of the world pounding nails into my shoulders.

_June 9__th_

**KATNISS' POV**

It was harder writing that letter than almost anything I'd ever done. I didn't know what to say. If I knew it would actually get to them it would be different than if I thought Gale wouldn't keep his word. Thoughts of Prim crying with mother when they got the news, Ivy and Caroline huddled in their tiny house with a sick grandmother to take care of, Annie sitting in the cold darkness with a child growing up without his father. I wanted more than anything to believe that Gale would keep his promise and let them go, but I had my doubts.

It took me a long time to get words down onto paper. When I did, it seemed unfit and I threw the paper away. It took seven attempts to get something I actually considered.

"Is everything okay?" An unsure voice asked from the doorway behind me.

I turned around in my chair and saw Gale standing there half-inside my room. I turned back to the sheets of paper on my lamp-illuminated desk and didn't answer.

Gale walked up behind me. "Is that the letter?"

Again, I didn't answer. My head was beginning to hurt.

"I promised I would send it, Katniss. I'm not a liar."

Of course you aren't… I set down my pen and folded the paper in a very neat half, and sealed it in an envelope. When Gale raised his eyebrow down at me in question, I put the envelope in his hand.

"You'd better be telling the truth, Gale," I whispered.

His face was serious and would have otherwise been kind if it hadn't been for the situation. "I promise I am going to send it. In fact, I will right now on my way to the speech."

I shrugged, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Are you going to watch?"

"Do I have a choice?" My voice was bitter.

"You always have a choice."

I still didn't answer, standing up from my chair and walking towards the bathroom. But before I locked myself in, I heard the quiet words through the dark of my room.

"It's on live feed in half an hour if you want." And with that, Gale left me to me sulking.

The speech was one of the most horrible things I've ever witnessed in my life. Coming only second to the murders of children and the deaths of my friends and family, this sent nausea rolling in and out of my stomach and shivers down my spine and tears burning my eyes and throat. Though it wasn't particularly nasty or malicious or evil, a certain quality of it made it worse than any other speech that would have been classified with those three nouns.

For three hours I watched my childhood friend, my Gale, stand up in front of a good two hundred mutated Capitol workers and talk. He spoke like a leader, like he actually had power and enjoyed ruling over the people. Not to mention the looks of all the workers (from chefs to advisors to Avox to technicians) there in the huge auditorium. Almost all had their heads tilting up to shine at Gale with looks of utmost devotion, disgusting lust and fidelity and every expression I had never dreamed being cast upon my (ex) friend.

Gale discussed first about the districts. It was especially painful when he talked about District 12. He told everyone about how they were getting along and what needed to be prepared to be shipped there, under the name of "The Agency". I really nearly puked when I heard that. Now I couldn't use the excuse of how he abandoned the districts because…well, he hadn't.

After talking about how the districts were getting along, he made a short note about some other, less relevant topics, before he paused to look out over everyone. Without any warning, he began talking about me. The reaction from some people, I expected. They murmured amongst themselves, some angry some curious some excited.

At then, I was very, _very_ thankful that I was in my room watching it on my TV. I had my legs tucked up to my chest, the comforter around me like a giant, heavy, deformed cloak. My eyes remained glued to the face of Gale Hawthorne, the new president of Panem, give a speech about me to the Capitol residents. I knew only the most important people were watching it live, while the rest were watching it on screen, like me. I was attempting to breathe, sucking air in and out, but feeling no more oxygen in my brain.

"_I know there has been a past with Katniss,_" Gale was saying in a strong voice, floating out over the millions of heads, "_but I ask of you to let go of anything and everything she has done to hurt the Capitol in the past. President Snow assured her no living future as a normal girl living a normal life, but I am no dictator. I am just a man, and as a man that happens to be chosen—against all odds—to rule the next generation of Panem, I beg of you to accept Katniss. Some of you may have noticed her in the hallway, and—" _He laughed_. "—there is no doubt that must have been a shock for all of you, but she's here for a while. Make her feel welcome. She's perfectly safe, I promise you, and is having a hard enough time as it is. All I'm asking of you is to remind her that we aren't the enemy anymore."_

"'Not my enemy'…" I scoffed, pressing my frown into a pillow, though my eyes were still glued to the screen.

"_I'm not much of a spokesperson, obviously," _Gale laughed again, "_so I'll let you all go back to your day. If there are any questions, please visit Jay Triggs in the documentary and advisory department. Thank you." _With a small, polite bow, he stepped down from the podium and could be seen waving away a glass of water offered to him before the camera turned off the TV turned black again.

I sat there in that same position on my bed for a long time before moving.

I'd gotten those three hours alone, mercifully. Elizabeth and Aprilynne, despite objections, shuffled out after the first five minutes of Gale's speech, leaving me to be as emotional as I needed. I didn't cry once, though. Just screamed a little bit and maybe even cursed. No crying, though.

Swallowing, I slid from the tall bed and padded quietly into the bathroom, where I locked it firmly and stripped off my clothing. The tap of the Jacuzzi was turned on with a squeak, and it filled to the brim with hot water and bubbles. Feeling heavy and tired, I sank into it and curled myself protectively around the almost-nonexistent bump of my lower abdomen.

"Don't worry," I whispered, comforting it, but also comforting me. "We'll get out of this. I'll find a way. I promise."

Though the promise seemed near impossible to keep at that point, I made it still, and traced my fingers upon the bare skin of my stomach. Repeatedly in my head I tried deciding what circumstance would be better; having my child look more like me or Peeta. If was truly was raising her (or him) here, would it not be good for the child to have blond hair and blue eyes? I wanted more than anything to see Peeta again, to have _something_ left from him to cling on to. How would Gale respond to that?

Well, okay, how would he respond to a child in general? I suppose at this point it didn't really matter what my kid looked like, but I have a kid in the first place.

Sinking so where only the top of my head was above water, I blew out a long breath, loud bubbles streaming up onto the surface. _What am I going to do?_

It was some time later I found the strength and willpower to drag myself out of the cold water, all the popped bubbles floating dead, a dirty white film floating around on the surface. I pulled a few towels from the rack and dried myself off with them, winding an extra around my hair. Despite the haircut I was given the day before my wedding last month, the ends were already showing signs of splitting. It brushed the middle of my back, but I remember some time, years ago when I let it grow all the way past my waist, and I'd braid it into an intricate plait to stay out of my way. A few days ago it crossed my mind that I should have it cut, but the urge passed quickly. Now, I kept remembering how Peeta would often braid it before going out on a walk in town.

My chest heaved a sigh and I changed back into the clothes I was wearing before. My stomach whined at me, wanting to be full again after getting rid of all those peanut butter sandwiches six hours ago. More food sounded nice. With bare feet, I padded out of the room and walked only with mild certainty towards the direction of the kitchen.

The stares were definitely weirder, I had to note.

"Can I do anything for you, Miss Katniss?" A stretched out, balding man wearing an apron and a chef's hat greeted me when I elbowed my way into the kitchen.

_ It was supposed to be abandoned, _I thought miserably, grimacing at all the people. It wasn't that many, but it was more than I wanted.

"No," I said briskly, waving him off and going to the cupboard where I knew the peanut butter to be located. When I pulled out the jar and a loaf of bread, at least half a dozen cooks eyed me in confusion.

"Miss?"

I kept ignoring them and left the kitchen to fold my legs up onto the surface of the massive dining table. Sadly, I wasn't even done with making my first sandwich when the door opened and an unamused Gale strode in, crossed his arms, and raised his eyebrows at me.

"Your room was empty," he said accusingly. "You scared me out of my mind."

I took a bite of my food, not moving a single inch from where I was.

"You were watching me, I suppose? On the screen?"

In one short move of my head, I nodded.

"Did you like it?" His face was slightly sarcastic, but I couldn't help but grit my teeth.

"It was horrible." Peanut butter was now dancing cheerily through my veins. "You really are awful."

Gale sighed, shaking his head as though the only emotion he got from those sentences was exasperation. "No, I'm not. I'm doing my job."

"Too bad your job happens to be ruling a megalomaniac society," I said quietly, putting as much venom into my words as possible. "I didn't like it, Gale, because this is the Capitol. If it was my own mother giving the speech I wouldn't have liked it any more. It just so happened to be you, and you just so happened to have _abandoned me_. If you hadn't been given a choice maybe I'd be a little more lenient, but deciding to switch to the bad side is not an acceptable excuse for abandoning your best friend."

His jaw visibly clenched. "We aren't bad, Katniss. Snow was."

"The Hunger Games were issued _before_ Snow, Gale." My hands were trembling again, and I was forced to set the loaf of bread and peanut butter onto the table where I sat cross-legged. "Didn't you pay any attention in class?"

"More than you, obviously," Gale said coolly. "Coronelius Snow was head advisor to the president when the Games were issued. When the president before him was killed in the war with the 13 districts, he took over and made the Games a reality and gave the citizens their first taste of adolescent blood. Snow had done that, Katniss. There are only a few frighteningly sadistic people here who liked the Games for the bloodshed, not the adrenaline. And, Katniss," he looked prickly and defensive, eyes narrowed at me in a look that was probably meant to be less harsh (but harsh nonetheless), "ninety percent of _those_ have disappeared. It's like a natural filter now that Snow's gone. We're just a normal country now."

"How can you say that?" I jumped off the table and landed lithely in front of him, fists tightening. "You know for a fact that the people here are monsters. 'There are only a few people who liked the Games'." My mimicking of his voice was horrible. "Just _shut up_, Gale, _s__hut up_. How can you possibly speak of this like you're defending them? Have you forgotten what they did to me? To _us_?"

His nostrils flared in anger that was visibly rising. "Everyone deserves a second chance. This is my city now, Katniss, my people, my country. I _know_ they aren't evil. Not everyone is like Snow. You can't judge a nation by its ruler."

"Well _obviously_," I yelled, shoving his chest with both my hands, rage filling my throat and heart like a balloon, "because if I _did_, I'd be thinking a lot _worst_, you _evil_," I shoved him again, "_hypocritical_," another shove; Gale stumbled out the door, looking shocked and insulted, "_cruel,_" I tried shoving him again, but he caught my hands on his chest and my knees buckled underneath me. Blinking tears out of my eyes, I managed to tear away from him and whisper the last few words, "_pathetic_ excuse for a hunting partner _and_ a leader of a nation. You're not worthy to be anything, Gale. Especially not my friend." And with that, leaving him look wounded and speechless, I turned and bolted from the half-circle corridor.

My feet pounded on the intricately tiled floor and I stumbled down the enormous hallway. My heart felt like it was on fire, flames licking up into my throat and making tears flow out of my eyes like a river. On the way, I saw several people pushing carts in front of them. Some carrying food, some clean linen, some covered to hide their contents. Doing my best not to have a furious mental breakdown, I stormed over to one of the carts which held numerous tall bottles of mysterious liquid that was a very pale, clear red.

"What's this?" I demanded to the cart-pusher, holding up a bottle in my shaking fist.

"Fireweed spirits, Ma'am," the young man said politely, only looking slightly nervous.

Whatever they were, I grabbed a bottle in each hand and was on my way, storming heatedly back down the corridor and into my room. Once behind the locked door, I yanked the cork out of the long-necked glass bottle and took a long, stupid drink. It came spewing back in a burning rainbow of fire out my nose. Though, I tongue tasted some type of sweet nectar behind the heavy alcohol and I drank again, feeling the effects already hitting me. My body swayed a little as if in a breeze, and I sat heavily on the floor, still clutching the bottle of spirits as though it was my lifeline.

Drink after drink I took until the bottle was gone. By then I was unable to stand. Tears ran down my face and I sobbed freely, self-pity and confusion enraging me more than anything. My head was fuzzy—dear _lord, _it was fuzzy. I couldn't see anything through my tears, but I could taste the sugar and the delicious drink inside of me, soothing my howling soul. Of course, my throat burned so much it was howling in itself.

Through my distorted, intoxicated daze, a knock broke through. It sounded about fifty times louder than it actually was, and I groaned, setting down the bottle I had just popped open. Attempting to muffle my blubbers, I crawled over to the door and opened it, blinking up at the visitor.

"What are you _doing_, Katniss?" Gale sighed exasperatedly, stepping around me and shutting the door. "Is that—? Oh, good god, Katniss." He bent down and snatched the bottle from my hands. "You know better than that. How much have you drank?"

I rubbed my face with my hand and glanced around me. "Uh… Just one."

"One bottle?" He sighed again, shaking his head. "And this one is already half-gone. Okay, Katniss, no more alcohol for you. Can you stand?"

Making a small affirmative grunt, I gripped one of the four posters on the bed and heaved myself upright. "I'm _fine_. Just really upset." The words came out slower than I intended, and I found I had to concentrate on each syllable I was speaking.

It was obvious he wasn't liking the situation. With frustrated, furrowed brows, he grabbed the bottle and set it on the small stand next to the bed, away from my reach.

"Getting drunk is not the right way to handle being upset, okay? You, of all people, should know."

I had _no idea_ what he was talking about. My mind hummed itself a little tune and I wrinkled my nose. "I'm not _drunk_."

"Oh, yes you are." Gale tried taking a careful hold of my arm, but I yanked away, stumbling against the poster.

"Don't touch me," I wailed, shrinking away from him as another wave of nausea hit me. For a second I blinked out, intoxication taking over. It only lasted for maybe five seconds before I coughed and came more "to it". Thankfully, I was still standing (with help from my bed). "I-I don't want you to…touch me."

No matter how much insult his screwed-up face displayed, Gale kept his cool and poured me a tall glass of ice water. "I came to apologize. What I said back there was no excuse for how I've been treating you."

"No, it wasn't." I blinked slowly at him, attempting a glare, but my eyebrow muscles wouldn't cooperate properly. "You had no right to defend the Capitol after all it's done to me."

"At least you're sober enough to know what we're talking about," he mumbled to himself, then straightened up and handed me the water.

I stared into the water hard, as if it'd tell me a secret if I stared long enough.

"At any rate, I'm sorry."

It was a long moment before I managed to pull my unfocused eyes from the glass. "…I'm sorry, too."

Gale's eyebrows arched cynically, as if saying: _Oh, REALLY. Maybe you're drunker than I thought._

"For, um…" Trailing off with an unsure mumble, I rubbed my forehead and got distracted for a second. "Mmmg." My words were slurred again, and a wave of queasiness. "I don't feel so well."

Again, Gale tried to help me, but I swatted him off and hauled myself into the center of my bed. There I turned my eyes away from Gale's.

"I'm just so…" A great lot of snot was snorted back into my nasal cavities and I wiped my eyes, which had began to stream again. The alcohol was really taking its toll, doing angry somersaults in my stomach and gut. "…I'm just…"

My bed moved slightly under the pressure of Gale sitting gently down on its edge. He reached out a hand, but didn't try to touch my again. "Are you alright, Katniss? I mean… Despite being absolutely drunk out of your mind."

Small snivels soon turned into sobs, and I cradled my head in my hands, trembling back and forth. "No, I'm not. I'm not, I'm not, I'm…I'm…" Gale looked at me expectantly, which just made me whimper more, turning my eyes away from him as though he was a scorching midday sun. "_I'm_ _so lonely_."

The second I felt his gentle hand on my shoulder, I turned and flung my arms around his torso and buried my face into his hard chest. Sobs raked out of my body as I clutched to him. The spirits were taking a huge part in this behavior, but I was thinking so crooked, I was dunking myself in and out of intoxicated unconsciousness. I wasn't actually unconscious—no, I was still fully awake, just not in total control.

After only a second of being mildy surprise at my embrace, Gale returned it and held me gently, not saying anything about the facial fluids I was smearing all over his shirt. "You're okay, Katniss," He patted me softly on the back. "You're okay."

"No I'm not," I blubbered, wishing inwardly I had that other bottle of fireweed spirits he had confiscated. "I'm a horrible person. I didn't mean what I said, Gale, I didn't mean it. You aren't…aren't pathetic. _I'm_ pathetic."

"No, you're drunk." Gale patted me on the back again. "I'm sure tomorrow you'll come back to your senses and hate me again."

"I'm sorry, Gale…" I moaned quietly, pressing my fists into my eyes.

"Drink some water, Katniss."

"I'm sorry."

"Please drink, you'll feel better."

"I said _I'm sorry_." Overcome with part-rage-part-annoyance-part-drunkenness, I pulled back and slapped him. I missed (got his forehead instead of his cheek), and it was a weak shot, but seeing the offended look in Gale's eyes made me hate myself even more. Not knowing what else to do (_man,_ I was completely _smashed_) and to stop him from saying anything, I kissed him.

Hell must have froze over, but never mind Hell. Intoxication and self- revulsion flipped my head inside out. The last thing I remembered was the muted shatter of glass hitting carpet.

I woke up with an unbearable, throbbing headache. My first thought when I peeled my eyes open was none too pleasant. Clutching my fingers over my mouth, I struggled off of my bed and into the bathroom, barely making it before I tossed my cookies. My stomach screamed in pain as I bent over the toilet. Those fireweed spirits were even worse than the stuff Haymitch used to drink.

I retched and retched until it was out of my system, efficiently scalding all of my innards with the poison in the alcohol. What had _happened _last night? I remembered sitting on the floor with a bottle in my hand, and I think Gale came in… He said something? I wasn't sure. My mind was in horrible shape, fuzzy and pounding.

"Buh…" I groaned, rubbing one of my eyes with a hand. Why were my legs so cold? The tile floor was freezing against my bare calves. Wait…

Shivering, a sinking feeling accompanying my sickness, I gripped the edge of the toilet and trailed my eyes down to my legs. They were indeed bare. As was— I vomited again, this time because I'd let out a cry. _No, no, no_. What had—? What the hell had—? No, no, no, _NO_. Enraged, confused tears were pouring down both of my cheeks, and I reached to wipe them on the hem of my undershirt.

A hesitant knock sounded on the door.

"_Go away_," I howled, voice rough and grating on my sore throat. _Monster!_

There had to be a reason I was only wearing my undershirt, but I didn't necessarily care about what it was. The fact was that I got drunk last night (shame filled me like a balloon and I cried some more), and I woke up with a god-awful hangover and not wearing any trousers.

"Take advantage of me, you bastard," I hissed into my arm, aware he couldn't hear me. "Just get out of here…"

Someone knocked on the door again, and I heard his voice. "Katniss, please, h—"

Just as the doorknob turned, I launched myself across the bathroom and slammed the door closed again, locking it.

"I said _go away_," I sobbed, dropping to my knees again. _Please tell me last night didn't happen. Please, please… I couldn't have possibly… I'm married, for god's sake! I'm pregnant and-and married and—_ I tried stuffing my fist in my mouth to curb the hysterical choking sounds coming from my throat, but it didn't work. I couldn't face the truth. Was I in denial? The shame I'm going to face when I finally understand what this means.

Coughing, I managed to heave myself upright and pull on a robe from the rack. My stomach was still heaving and screaming, and I tried not to imagine what last night did to my unborn child.

"Katniss, please—"

Clutching my arms around my chest, I cried, "Shut up, just _shut up_," My fists were itching, clenching and unclenching. I wanted nothing more than to feel his nose break under my hand, but I knew violence wasn't going to change what I did last night. Coughing again, I stood up and threw open the door, teeth gritted and hair wild and glaring at him with a hatred I'd never felt before. "You took advantage of me, Gale Hawthorne." My voice was surprisingly quiet, despite my face. "You think I'll listen to you?"

To my surprise, when I blinked away my tears enough to see Gale clearly, his expression was something I didn't understand. His entire face was pulled down into what looked like a permanently sad look. His eyes drooped and his frown hung slightly open. Thankfully, he had enough common sense to have put on some underclothes before talking to me.

Then a thought occurred to me. Was he in my bed when I woke up? Did I…fall asleep with him? And he stayed?

"Please," Gale begged again, blinking his eyes as if it took a lot of effort. "Please, Katniss. I know it looks…bad."

I felt my legs trembling underneath me, and my head pounded even harder. "It doesn't look _bad_, Gale. You took advantage of my when I was…when I was drunk. That's a low, even for _you_. I thought I told you… I told you…" Tears rose in my throat again, and I couldn't keep up my strength anymore. A small sob bubbled out of my mouth and I turned my head away from him so he couldn't see the fresh tears that streaked down my cheeks.

"Katniss, you were the one who wanted it." Gale's voice remained quiet.

"Why the hell would I want it?" I sniffed, wiping my eyes with the back of my robe sleeve. "Sure I was drunk, b-b…"

"I don't know, but you started…it…" He sucked in a little breath. "I'm sorry. I should have stopped you, but I…I didn't want to. I'm sorry, Katniss. I'm so sorry…"

I got ready to ball my fists and scream at him again, but the urge was lost. Faintly, in the very back of my mind, I _did_ remembered something… Did I actually kiss Gale? That was me, not him? Does that mean he's telling the truth? No, he couldn't possibly be. I'm smarter than that, I have a husband and…

Burying my face in my hands, I backed into the bathroom again. "Just go. _Please_, just go. Please."

He didn't try to stop me, and I didn't try to stop him. I went back into the bathroom, curled up in the tub, and cried myself to sleep.

**oOo**

_Okay, okay, okay. No need to get your panties in a twist. To be perfectly honest, I didn't mean for that to happen the way it did. I knew something needed to happen, but the possibility of it happening was as likely as Haymitch becoming a nun. So I know this may have been OOC and whatnot, but it needed to happen. Don't be angry. (: _

_It was a huge fight inside my head. If I put all of the little pieces (I had little sections of writing I'd distribute into this chapter and the next) into this chapter, then it would seem rushed. If I put some in the next, the first few paragraphs would seem too elongated and stretched out, and then rush really fast. So just understand there was not really a way to write this gracefully._

_I've got a song by my favorite band for these few chapters that you should really, REALLY listen to. It's called "Goodbye" by Secondhand Serenade. A piece of it:_

_It's a shame that it had to be this way,_

_It's not enough to say I'm sorry,_

_It's not enough to say I'm sorry._

_Maybe I'm to blame,_

_Or maybe we're the same,_

_But either way I can't breathe,_

_Either way I can't breathe._

_All I had to say is goodbye._

_We're better off this way,_

_We're better off this way._

_I'm alive, _

_But I'm losing all my drive,_

'_Cause everything thing I've been through_

_And everything about you seems to be a lie,_

_A gutless twisted lie_

_That's made me learn to hate you,_

_Or hate myself for letting it pass by_


	9. Chapter 9

_Something…well… It's going to see really rushed, but when you think about five years, you'd much rather it skip a few weeks at a time then get dragged out for FIVE FRIGGIN' YEARS. You know, there's so much I can cram in. So bear with me, it's not all that bad._

_Read, read, read! And don't hate me!_

**oOo**

When I woke next, I felt like sliding back into consciousness, because it took no time to remember what had happened. The time of day was unknown to me, seeing as how I was in a windowless bathroom. The cold porcelain of the tub flattened my cheek, but I soon realized I hadn't been left completely alone while I was sleeping. A quilt was wrapped around me and tucked under my shoulders, and on the edge of the bathtub sat a tall glass of water.

Sitting up uncertainly, I pulled the blanket off of me. My mouth still had the lingering taste of sick, my head was _still_ pounding and it felt like there was a knife stuck in my stomach. My fingers trailed to the miniscule raise of my abdomen._ What's happening to me?_ Resting my head back on the bathtub, I sighed. No more tears came, though. All there was to do was wait and see exactly how harsh the consequences were.

Was Gale still in my room? I wondered. Sitting on the end of my bed in his undershorts with his head in his hands… Did he tell the truth? I'd been drunk before (just the once, with Haymitch) and I hadn't tried any stupid way of distracting myself from the pain. Lord knows what was going through my head the night before.

I decided to take a shower. With grainy, stinging soap, I scrubbed away every bit of last night so hard my skin turned a nasty shade of red and throbbed.

"Stupid Gale," I muttered, forcefully wringing my hair out. _Stupid, stupid_…

The robe I'd been wearing before my shower was pulled back on again, and I stomped out of the bathroom.

Without particularly wanting to, I caught my reflection in the huge mirror hanging above the desk. Blue bags hung from my eyes and my lips were visibly chapped, as white as a ghost. Though the physical illnesses were most prominent, I could see the heartbreak and grief sagging my shoulders downwards.

"Not Gale…" I shuddered, clutching my arms to my chest and dropping my gaze to the floor. "_Me._"

Letting out a scream of frustration, I struck out. My fist slammed into the nearest object, which happened to be an intricate, expensive-looking ceramic lamp. It was sent flying across the room and hit the opposite wall in a shower of glass and porcelain. My knuckles throbbed, beads of red already starting to form on my disturbed hands.

"_My fault," _I growled to myself, legs trembling, "My fault, it's my _FAULT_." Wild with anger and hurt, I gripped my wet hair by their roots and yowled. My fault, _my fault_. Blood was spattering from my hands onto the carpet, but I didn't care. My head reeled and my body spun, fighting to stay in one piece upright.

Still letting out a noise like a wounded bear, I opened my eyes to find a deranged reflection wailing back at me.

"It's your fault, Katniss," I cried, gripping the edges of the mirror frame in my hands. "_You _got drunk, _you_ jumped him. You _knew_ you were pregnant, for god's sake." The tiny wires and nails holding the mirror up on the wall popped out as I used all my strength to rip the mirror sideways. It slid downwards and burst the second it hit the ground. The glass split my palms and my bare feet.

"You're pathetic," I cried at the pieces of me scattered across the floor, every sliver wearing the same petrified, disgusting girl staring back. "You're not worthy of anything. Maybe it's a good thing Peeta's gone. He doesn't deserve this."

There was a moment when my body went still, and I stood quivering in the middle of a sea of broken glass, not feeling the pain in my feet or hands. My eyes were glued onto the biggest shard of mirror, about the size of a pillow. The girl staring back wasn't me. She was a monster.

"Leave me alone." Stifling another infuriated scream, I put as much force as I could into smashing my foot into the center of the piece of mirror. It broke, and with the shards of glass, all of my strength was sapped out and lay in pools on the floor, useless. "I can't stand the sight of you…"

I sank to my hands and knees.

Glass sliced up my legs and hands more, lodging deep. Blood rushed from my wounded body like you wouldn't believe, taking no time coating the sleeves and the bottom of my bathrobe. It was sticky and warm, and filled the air with the most foul iron smell that coated the inside of my nose and mouth. My own suffering tasted worse than vomit.

Vaguely, as if in a dream, I heard rushed footsteps outside my door, and it was thrown open violently. The wood scraped aside a mound of glass like a snow angel, and as I lay there on the gory bits of glass, perhaps bleeding to death, I was hazily aware of two pairs of hands gripping me under my armpits and hauling me upright. Though my legs would not hold my weight, I was dragged onto my bed, where I gratefully sunk into and bled all over the covers.

"Stop," I said weakly, as a single pair of hands began trying to staunch the bleeding. "Please, stop." Lifting my head up, I could see who stood by my side. It was Elizabeth, of course. Her fingers and palms were covered in my blood, and she held the corner of an already-soaked blanket.

Glaring fiercely, she shook her head and went back to pressing the cloth on one of the worst wounds, where the blood poured out a dark shade of red.

"Please." I reached over and took her wrist, leaving scarlet fingerprints. "You'd be doing me a favor."

This time, her face softened. Elizabeth swallowed visibly and hung her head, but then looked back up at me. Her eyes shone with such emotion, she couldn't have told it better in words. _Don't give up_. I'll be out of here someday.

No shame or guilt tried to creep up on me this time. I felt nothing as I lay my head back down and stare out the sliver of nature the drapes made over the window. It was dark outside, but there were too many different colors to describe. Purples and blues and pinks and oranges of the sunset (or sunrise?) were sent dancing through the sky and weaving patterns into the waves. A few minute stars were visible in the darkest of purples.

"Where's Aprilynne?" I asked in a hoarse voice, looking back over at the older Avox through painfully narrowed eyes.

Elizabeth nodded her head towards the door and—ironically—it burst open again. Aprilynne came skittering nervously behind Gale as he came through, striding swiftly and purposefully across the puddle of broken, bloody glass towards the bed where I lay. His face was contorted with I would have assumed to be rage; eyebrows furrowed over dark, menacing eyes, and his mouth was pulled tight into a line. The second he stepped in, his fingers ripped a cover off of a small plastic button and he slammed it down. Elizabeth stepped away just in time for Gale to take her place.

"Leave us," he snapped at the two Avox and they rushed off. After that he worked in silence.

The scowl remained plastered on his face as he propped towels under my knees to catch blood and brought tweezers for the easier-to-remove shards. I did my best not to wince as he furiously dug the ends of the tweezers into my flesh, but by the time he had a tiny pile of slivers collected next to my leg, tears had cut a path down my sweaty face, and I felt horribly lightheaded.

The doctors came, and I left, being carried away on a bed with sterile white covers and wheels. The four men in white scrubs around me chattered nervously to one another while they drove me through the halls. I heard some of it and understood none. The blood that had left me was too great in amount to be acceptable for loss; I felt very faint and dizzy, sweating profusely and doing my best to stay conscious.

By the time I saw the white ceiling of the infirmary sector, I was out cold.

Days went by faster than they should have. That morning on the eleventh of June, I'd woken up to a silent doctor and an IV of fresh blood. Neither Gale nor either of my Avox girls came to see me. The doctors insisted on keeping me in until the night of the twelfth, in which I was deemed fit to leave and directed to another room. To my surprise, it was a lot like my other. The same breakable items, but the difference was (as I learned rather quick), everything was bolted down. It was unnecessary, though. I didn't try to destroy anything else.

I spoke to no one for the longest time. I sat in bed, head lolled and watching through the glass of my new room's window. The view was the same. I sat up and stayed there, only getting up to use the restroom, until Gale came to visit me on the twentieth. Other than my two lovely Avox girls, he was the first visitor I got. It didn't surprise me. I had no one else.

He was weary at first. He sat at my feet and, after being silent for a few minutes, apologized to me. He said how sorry he was for not visiting me and not sticking by when they sent me to the hospital those days ago. He apologized for getting carried away "that night", and apologized to me for being such a jerk. I didn't say anything to him at all while he was saying those things. I just sat and watched him.

His hair was growing out again.

After Gale was done apologizing, he asked me to come have dinner with him. I had barely eaten anything for quite some time, but my stomach seemed opposed to food. Nevertheless, I took his offer wordlessly, and made myself somewhat presentable again by showering and changing clothes.

During dinner that evening, we dined alone in a room I had never seen before. It was smaller and less fancy than the other dining room, but the window held a spectacular view I just couldn't keep my eyes off of. The cooks gave us food that I barely ate any of, and Gale asked me to please talk to him.

"What is there to say?" I asked, looking out again over the inlet.

Gale just blinked sadly. "Well, whatever it is that you need to say."

There was nothing I needed to say, I decided, so I just kept quiet.

That night, I lay awake in bed, hands folded neatly over my stomach. It was growing, slowly but surely. I was still in the middle of my first trimester, so it was not visible unless you looked very hard, but it was still there. Deep in my mind I wondered what would become of the both of us when Gale finally realized my stomach was growing like a balloon.

Then a thought struck me, so fast and hard it felt like someone had dropped a bowling ball on me. Well, it was more of a memory than a thought. I did not like revisiting it, but still, it took a good few more hours to convince myself that there was no possible way that event could repeat itself. It was indeed, possible, though. I just refused to think that way.

"Have you been alright lately, Katniss?" Gale asked me one day—the 25th, I think—while helping me clean my room. Or more like…cleaning my room for me. I admit I was not trying at all to keep it neat. He picked up another piece of dirty laundry and tossed it into the hamper. "I mean, other than your usual stuff?"

The term "usual stuff" normally meant my depression and hatred for him, though it lessened every time I was with him. All of the hatred and disappointment I felt was now directed towards my own person. Now everything was my fault, no matter what the occurrence was.

I shrugged, letting my gaze wander as I bit the end off of my ragged thumbnail.

"I…" He sighed, furrowing his brows and turning slightly red as though something had embarrassed him. "…I was talking to Elizabeth yesterday, and…well, she brought up…something."

My eyebrows raised as I looked up at him from my cross-legged perch on the bed. "What?"

"Well…" His cheeks were glowing and he shifted on his feet in discomfort. "She…pointed out that-that in preparing your room, I failed to, er…supply your restroom with the necessary…"

I blinked.

Gale stuttered for a moment more, before sighing exasperatedly. "Well, you're a girl. It's been around a month you've been here, and since I failed to put anything in your bathroom, is there…well, is there anything you _need_?" He said the word "need" as if it were dirty, and winced at me as though expecting a less-than-normal reaction.

"'Need' as in…?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Katniss." Gale huffed, throwing another bit of laundry into the hamper. "I wish I could have just let Elizabeth ask…" With cheeks still flaming and eyes still humiliated, he winced at me a second time. "Are there any toiletry supplies I can send Elizabeth to get for you, you know, being…a girl and all."

"Oh, _those_ kinds of 'needs'." I surprised the both of us by giving out a short laugh. Bitterness singed the edges of the sound. "No, Gale. I won't be needing those for a while."

The second the words came out of my mouth I inhaled so suddenly and sharp, it was if I was trying to suck the words back into my lungs before Gale had heard them. But he had. _Damn it_… Curses shot the insides of my mind like bullets and I internally beat myself up over that. What have you done? Why did you _say that_?

Gale face was first confusion. The blush had vanished with his puzzlement, but the pink soon returned in a color many shades darker. His lips pursed and his eyes seemed to kind of bulge and he tried swallowing several times before managing to look me in the eyes.

"Please don't tell me I understood that correctly." Gale's voice was pleading and crotchety.

I hung my head, feeling guilty, with no words to say (other than rather obscene ones, which I kept in).

"_No_," he whispered. "No, no, no…"

_That's what I'm thinking too, trust me_, I thought grimly.

A sheet of whiteness stretched across Gale's face, tightening his lips and widening his eyes even more, so where it looked like he was on his death bed. His trembling fingers closed into fists and he leaned heavily on the desk in front of him. Between one second and the next, his look turned into the most horrid self-loathing I'd ever seen, foul and livid and making his entire being shake from head to toe.

This was the most miserable I'd seen him perhaps _ever_. He looked ready to throw up, so absolutely depressed I didn't know what to do or say.

"I…" Gale kept his head bowed and swallowed several times. "I am so sorry. So, _so_ sorry. I…" He fell to his knees and kept his elbows on his next, hiding his face in his hands. "…What have I done?"

I was so caught up wondering how he would react if he knew I was pregnant with Peeta's child, and now it had come to the moment when he finally learned. My heart raced a mile a minute inside my throat, and I furrowed my brows with worry at the floor, and then up at him.

"…Are you angry at me, Gale?" My words were but a whisper, frightened for both me and the child inside of me.

He looked up this time, eyes morose and wet. "Why would I be angry at you? I was the one who made the mistake… It's my…it's my fault."

If I had a dime for every time I heard those three words...

Gale began to pace, furious and loud footsteps going from the closet doorway to the bathroom doorway, crossing in front of me every time. His hands clenched and unclenched and the obvious strain of holding back tears seemed to hurt him as well.

"It's my… I never meant to…" Breaths were coming out of him in short pants, getting more and more frantic.

Then it clicked. He thought the child was his. All because of that night some two weeks ago. He thinks that he was the one that got me pregnant. Again.

Damn it all.

"It's my problem, I'll deal with it. You can't…" He panted some more and walked swiftly back over to the emergency button, ready to press it. "Have to…have to get it out of you…"

I got up faster than I thought possible. "No!" I knocked his hand fiercely away from the button and stood there, shivering, between Gale and the doctors that would take my child from me. "No."

"I can't burden you with my kid for the rest of your life, Katniss!" Gale yelled suddenly, very loud, and grabbed onto his hair with a wild, lost expression on. "That's not what was supposed to happen. I can't do this to you! I'm not…I'm not putting that responsibility on you. It's not your fault." Two perfect, pearly tears slid from each eyelid and stayed on his cheeks. "It's mine. And I'm not sending you home with a mistake that takes the rest of your life away from you, Katniss. I'm not letting that happen."

"So you're killing it?" I tried to yell back, curling my arms around my stomach protectively.

If this is how it's going to be, I need to make a decision, and make it _now_. To tell him the truth or to let him think it's his. A decision that could affect the rest of my life. I already made up my mind.

Taking a slow, deep breath, I blinked and brought my hands down from my abdomen. "I'm not letting you kill it, no matter who his father is. If I go home in five years with a kid whose past I can't explain, so be it, but I'm not ending an innocent life because of it."

He wasn't convinced, pressing his palms into his eyes as if trying to block everything around him. "You're my responsibility, Katniss. I brought you here with me so we can be best friends again. I'm supposed to take care of you. I said horrible things to you. That's why you drank, because I made you upset. And I _let_ you…I let you…" Gale let out a quiet noise like a dying animal. "You weren't the one that made the mistake. I was."

"Whoever's mistake it was," I said quietly, "I'm not letting you hurt anyone here, born or not."

The period of silence that followed was deafening. Gale sat down heavily on the edge of my bed, and I sat next to him. Nothing was said for the longest time.

"How long have you known?"

Gale's voice made me look up at him, and I was forced to stare into his miserable eyes again.

I dropped my gaze. Lie well, Katniss. It just may be the words that make all the difference. "...Just about ever since we… Ever since that night."

"…And you're positive?"

"Yes, Gale." Feeling my chest constrict painfully, I looked away and stood up, not wanting to talk about it anymore. "Look," I glanced back at Gale. "I don't know what'll happen, but right now I'd like to pretend nothing's wrong because, to be frank, if anything else happens that isn't supposed to, I'm going to burst."

He shrugged, face in a permanently sad expression. "I understand. But…I—" A crease appeared between his brows, different from his upset crease. "I…I want to see the kid." Gale lifted his gaze uncertainly, looking at me with a face that was probably not meant to look miserable. "Would it be too much to ask of you to take a trip to the doctors?"

It floated into my mind; us both at the doctors. Gale's expecting to see a two-week-old fetus and we see an almost two-month-old fetus. I wasn't even sure you were able to see the fetus at two weeks… Licking my lips nervously, I tried to keep on a mostly-neutral expression as I peeked back up at him. "I don't…I don't think you could see it two weeks old. We should…We should wait until it's older."

A heavy sigh. "Yeah…" Gale had begun looking sort of frozen. His face was wiped clean and there was no sign of life from his body except for the slight rise and fall of his chest. "I'm going to, uh…use your restroom." And with a funny look on, he turned and shuffled into the bathroom, gently closing the door after him.

When he was out of sight, I stretched out on my bed and pressed the side of my face into the pillow. One arm was bent under my head and the other was wrapped around my own waist. I didn't know what I'd just done, didn't know how it would affect my child. I didn't even know what was happening tomorrow.

By then I'd gotten past the denial and the anger stage. Before, I might have called it giving up. Haymitch's gruff voice whispered in my ear, _Come on, sweetheart. Get up; it isn't as bad as you make it_. But it was. And I wasn't giving up. I was accepting it, and no longer trying to see down the path behind me. There wasn't anything I could do about what had already happened. I was focusing on how I was going to get out.

I got eight months. After that, it'd be harder and less… straightforward than just "get myself the hell out". I'd have a kid, and if Gale really _was_ convinced he was the father… This was going to be a riot.

I was allowed less than a month and a half to stall for the ultrasound. After that, fresh and early on the first day of September, Gale would not take "no" for an answer. I'd grown a lot since June. Mostly forwards. There was a now definite bulge to my stomach. It popped out on any shirts I wore, not _big_, but certainly noticeable. By then I'd consumed more peanut butter sandwiches than I could keep track of. It comforted me, sitting cross-legged on a table eating the stuff. Not only had my appetite for peanut butter increased, but also my territorial side and my irritability.

Occasionally Gale would ask to touch my stomach, but I'd always shrink away. Though, it didn't really make any difference, not allowing him. I knew late at night when he managed to sneak in my room, he'd touch it. Unlike Peeta, he just stayed silent. Just for a few seconds a night, pressing his fingertips to the tightened skin of my belly, and then just _leaving_. Once, I was mostly asleep when he came, but when I felt him get off the edge of my bed, he bent over and just barely brushed his lips against my temple. I didn't have the heart to do anything but pretend to sleep.

Now, that day the first of September, I woke up to Aprilynne and Elizabeth sitting at the end of my feet, munching on apple slices and watching me sleep. When I raised my head and blinked at them, Aprilynne grinned at me. Two lopsided dimples popped out on her chin as she offered me a slice of apple. We'd become better friends, that's for sure.

I declined the fruit. "What are you two doing here?" My voice was quiet and croaky, waking up a little slower than my mind.

Elizabeth brought out her dependable little yellow notebook, and, with her not-sticky hand, wrote:

_**Mr. Hawthorne wanted us to wake you.**_

__I admitted this surprised me just a little bit, mostly because Gale had become territorial—just like me, too. He'd rarely let the two Avox into my room without him there, which was silly because I trusted them more than I trusted him. Sitting up all the way, I looked up at the clock. It was eight o'clock in the morning.

"Why so early?" I rubbed my eyes. I hadn't woken up before 10 in quite some time.

The Avox shrugged and got off my feet. Elizabeth helped me off the bed, even though I was perfectly capable of doing it myself, and walked me to the bathroom. I'd gotten used to being spoiled, having my towels heated up before getting out of the bath and having these girls sit me down and comb out all of my tangles. Not a single part of me didn't like their company; they were in the Capitol by the Capitol's fault. They could not help it, just like me. And, I admit it, Elizabeth reminds me too much of Prim.

When I stepped out of the shower, I wrapped myself in two warm towels and stepped out into my bedroom. Both of the Avox were standing there. Elizabeth was holding a pair of comfortable-looking trousers, and Aprilynne was holding a skirt in one hand, a funny shirt in the other. Elizabeth was shaking her head at the other girl, and it was obvious she had won.

"A _maternity_ shirt?" I blurted out, wrinkling at the piece of clothing I'd just recognized. "I still fit into the others."

The older Avox put her hand on her hips, raised her eyebrows, and gave me a very stubborn look.

"Fine…"

They both set the clothes on my bed and turned around. Usually they had no problem helping me into my garments (seeing as how it was getting harder and harder to agilely bend down and back up). That didn't matter, though. I put on the underclothes, and then the trousers and funny maternity shirt. It stretched loosely over my ever-growing chest (they itched constantly, and I hated it) and fell shapelessly over my stomach and hips.

Aprilynne gave me a toothy grin and a thumbs-up.

I dropped my shoulders and scowled at the floor. Two kind hands placed themselves on either of my shoulders and I looked into the eyes of my only friends. Of course, they knew about my condition, but they thought that it was Gale's baby, as did Gale. As far as I knew, only a few other people other than us four in the Capitol knew that I was pregnant at all. Waltzing around in pregnant-lady clothes would certainly give it away. It had to happen _some_time, though.

Silently, the two girls began combing out my wet hair gently.

"Is Gale going to be waiting there?" I asked, reaching over to the desk to open one of the drawers.

While Aprilynne began braiding my black curtain (it was steadily growing longer), Elizabeth walked around to my front and nodded before brushing something off my shoulder—a habit she'd gotten into.

"Okay." I pulled a familiar white ribbon from the desk and tied it into the end of my braid after it was finished. "I'm ready, I guess."

Elizabeth laced her fingers with my left hand, and Aprilynne did the same with my right. It seemed as though every time I left my room in this fashion, it felt like some great event. Though most of the time it wasn't, having two faithful Avox girls at my side holding my hands while walking away from my room felt anything but normal.

We met Gale outside the hospital, and when he saw me, he put his hands behind his back. I could see him wringing them. He was dressed smartly, in a pair of black slacks and a button-up white shirt tucked into the waistband of his trousers. His hair, however, was untouched and getting longer by the day. It covered up barely a portion of his uneasy, still-grief-stricken face; pursed lips, furrowed brows and apologetic gray eyes.

"Good morning, Katniss," he said in a quiet, kind voice when us three girls had stopped in front of him.

I nodded once at him. "Good morning."

"Shall we?"

I glanced at Aprilynne and Elizabeth in turn, and when they asked me if they could come, too, with their eyes, I gave them a tiny, weak smile. "If we must."

"How are we feeling today, Miss Katniss?" the nurse asked. He looked as frightening as any other Capitol man, but I had to admit, the hospital in this new Capitol Building was much…friendlier, dare I say it. Less menacing and metallic and dark. Though high-tech it was, there was nothing to suggest that behind that door over there they're ripping someone's tongue out for treason or that room over there is for injecting pregnant women with poison as a fun little experiment.

I absolutely hated when doctors asked me how I was feeling. I tightened my lips and blinked at the nurse. "Obviously a little below par, or else I wouldn't be here."

He chuckled a peculiar, high-pitched laugh that matched his Capitol accent abysmally well. "Yes, yes. And that's why _I'm_ here, too, eh?"

Contorting my face, I snuck a glance up at Gale. He rolled his eyes at the blue-clad man and gave me a look that said, "_You'll get used to the weirdness around here eventually_."

"In here, please."

All four of us were ushered inside a circular waiting room, with frightening ladies at desks answering calls and doors placed all around the wall. The walls were a worrisome dark blue, as were the desks and phones and uniforms and—I realized with a shock—_hair _of the numerous receptionists. There were no couches with seats or children rolling around on the carpet, I realized. There was no furniture or people at all, in fact, other than the reception desks and their holders. Forget what I said earlier about it being friendlier.

_If this is the maternity division, I'd hate to see the morgue…_

As we approached one of the desks, the lady hidden behind a computer giggled a most chilling giggle. "Good morning, Mr. Hawthorne."

"Checking in Miss Katniss," said the nurse to her, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket and handing it to her.

The lady behind it looked up from her computer and smiled. Shivers were sent down my spine under her pupil-less blue gaze. Her nearly-translucent skin was stretched as tight as it could over her cheekbones, and cobalt tattoos like vines crawling up the side of her face.

"Right away." She grinned, showing off perfectly straight, white teeth with sapphires implanted into them. Swiftly pressing something on her keyboard, the lady stood up and walked around towards the front of the desk. From the neck down she looked like an average woman dressed in a blue business suit with high heels and two-inch-long blue nails. "Please follow me."

The receptionist teetered over to the second door to our right and pressed a card into a little slot above the handle, and pushed. I noticed she had an interesting walk about her, something like a waddle. Perhaps were skirt was too tight.

I didn't let go of Elizabeth's or Aprilynne's hands as we were led into a corridor that was again looking slightly normal. Sure, everyone there was wearing the same matching-colored blue suits and hair, and all of the lettering & doors and floor were blue, but it made me relax a little more. Just a little.

Gale walked slightly in front of us, shoulders tensed with a sort of protective manner, and he kept looking back at me. I suppose the smiles he kept giving me were meant to be reassuring, but all of them were stiff and maybe just as scared as I was.

Our scary lady guide stopped in front of a door and waited for us to catch up. When we did, she grinned again and glanced at someone behind us.

"Ah, there you are." She looked satisfied, and then glanced back at Gale and me. "I'll leave you two to your doctor, Dr. Illina. Good luck." She folded her hands in front of her and promptly waddled off, her heels clicking on the blue tile floor.

Gale, the two Avox, and I turned around to face who we presumed to be Dr. Illina. In my head, I'd pictured another blue woman, but it was most definitely a man. He had brown, close-cropped hair, wide black eyes, and a mouth that stayed in an uneven smile. Something about him irked me, but I knew I'd never seen him before. He didn't seem particularly frightening either, unlike all of the blue women and the nurse.

"Good morning, Mr. Hawthorne." He nodded politely to Gale, and then to me, Aprilynne and Elizabeth. "And to you, Miss Katniss. Miss Elizabeth. Miss Lynne."

I wondered how he knew them, because he couldn't possibly have memorized every Avox name.

We three girls nodded our heads politely, but I didn't have the excuse of being mute to not speak.

"Well, in we go." Dr. Illina put a key into the door behind us and opened it for all of us.

Cautiously, the four of us followed, and found ourselves in a rectangular, dim room. In the middle was an immobile hospital bed that was lifted up at the end to be propped up at a 45-degree angle. Standing next to the bed was a computer on the table, connected to two different keyboards and two different mice. Wires strung from the computer like thick cobwebs. A small box hung next to the table with a few different slots, all slots filled with simple-looking medical instruments.

"You may keep your clothes on, Miss Katniss." the doctor said, pulling up a screen on the computer with small flashing lights. "Is everyone staying for the examination?"

All four of us exchanged looks. Aprilynne and Elizabeth had already decided, apparently, because they both gave me comforting pats on the shoulder and backed out of the room. Gale just stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Can I…" he began uncertainly, looking at me as if I might attack him if he finished his sentence. "Can I be here with you?"

I swallowed, looking down at the floor and back up. "I think it'd be best if you waited with Aprilynne and Elizabeth, Gale. At least for now. Maybe…" Blinking furiously, I shook my head and crossed my arms tightly over my chest. "Maybe near the end. But for now…"

No matter the disappointment that was so obvious on Gale's face, he consented and only gently touched my wrist before leaving. It was hard watching him leave so broken like that, but that could have saved me—for now, at least. If I could wait long enough that suspicion would be as low as possible… At any rate, there are still possibilities. Inside my chest, I ached, because my first doctors' appointment concerning my child was going to be with Annie. We were going to go to District 13 together. I was alone, for the millionth time in my life. You'd think I would have gotten used to it, but I still had to force my heart to keep on beating like this.

Dr. Illina motioned for me to lay down on the bed, and while he was adjusting the pillows under me and the blanket on my bottom half of my body he talked. "So, when Mr. Hawthorne came to me last month explaining to me what happened, it was customary to answer a list of questions every doctor here is complied to ask in these situations."

I shifted myself a little more onto the bed and folded my hands over my stomach, wondering of what importance that held.

"Naturally, he was required to explain everything that happened, as he did."

My cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and I had to look away, pretending to be focused on one of the instruments next to me. What exactly did he say, though? It was common knowledge alcohol and pregnancy didn't mix, but I didn't think they would be worried about that because _technically_, I drank before we…

Muttering a curse, I lifted my hands up to scrub away itchy moisture from my eyes.

"It's alright, Miss Katniss." The doctor patted my hand, and I was surprised to feel his be as cold as ice. "We get a lot worse cases. But I do offer my condolences. Mr. Hawthorne said you'd wanted to keep it?"

"Yes." I brought my hands away from my face and did my best to stay still as my shirt was tucked all the way up to my chest, exposing the stretchy, pale skin of my abdomen. There was honestly no mistaking my pregnancy.

"Then let's see what we have here…" Dr. Illina gave me a small, supportive smile before grabbing a large tube from a slot in one of the boxes. He squeezed out an enormous amount of clear, blue, freezing cold jelly onto my naval and, pressing a switch on the computer, held up another instrument skinnier than my wrist. On the computer screen, an image flickered and a fan of moving static appeared.

"Alright…" The doctor pressed an end of the instrument into the glop of jelly and suddenly, the static flickered.

I felt my breath catch in my lungs as shapes swerved in and out of view. They were broken an indistinct, but it was amazing. In District 12 we have nothing of this sort, no intricate electrical contraption that allowed you to see _inside_ of another human being. Sure, in District 13, my turncoat doctor, Dr. Longarden, had just pressed a funny metal box to my stomach and got pictures of my first child—something I hated thinking about, but popped up into my head nonetheless.

"That is your gallbladder," Dr. Illina said, pointing to a dark blob on the screen. He pressed a key on his computer, which took a snapshot. "And here…" He twisted the ultrasound instrument and pressed it a little into the skin above my waistband. A few shapes blurred in and out of the screen, but when one came in clear, he took another snapshot and pointed to it. "That's your left ovary. That should mean that right _here_…"

The doctor trailed off when he twisted the apparatus again. In the middle of the screen, surrounded by static blips, was a shape. It was curled into a U-shape and lumpy, and not necessarily identifiable at first, but I knew what it was.

I sucked in a sharp breath. The image slid, and it took the doctor another few seconds to find it again. He took several pictures with the computer.

A crease had appeared between his eyebrows. "There your kid is. Right there, Miss Katniss, but something doesn't look too right…"

My heart began slamming against my rib cage, and you could see the slight throb on the screen.

With the mouse, Dr. Illina clicked on one side of what I guessed was the head, and then the other, stretching a circle out between the two marks. It recorded on the side of the screen, and he moved the ultrasound wand further on my right side. It was all blurry from there; the only clear image was from in front. After taking several more pictures and recording information, the doctor set down his instruments and gave me a towel to wipe my stomach off with.

I stared at him, pleading with my eyes. He looked unsettled, which unsettled _me_. My lips sank downwards and parted fearfully. "What is it?"

Dr. Illina took one more second of silence before straightening back and pulling up an image on the computer. It was the clearest one; you could just barely see the little raise of his nose, and the miniscule appendages clinging himself into a curled position. My breath got caught in my throat, and for a moment, I forgot everything else. _What a beautiful child_… I wanted to do something, to say something, but I was unable to do either of those things.

The clearing of his throat made me look back at the doctor. "Well," he started, rubbing his hands in the way that said: _we need to talk_, "it's obvious to the both of us that this is not a two-month-old fetus."

My muscles froze in place, and I felt my hands trembling on either side of me, but I said nothing.

"I was under the impression, and so was Mr. Hawthorne, that this is his child." Dr. Illina didn't look particularly traumatized, just confused. "Judging by the size it is I would guess about four months. Any thoughts on this?"

"Please don't tell him," I pleaded all of a sudden, not meaning for the words to come out of my mouth. I clapped my hands over my lips, but realized it was too late. I took my fingers away again and felt my mouth stay open in worry. My heart was still pounding feverishly, and all excited feelings from seeing my child were gone. "Please," I begged again. "I made a mistake, okay? It was never supposed to happen this way."

The doctor peeled off his rubber gloves and sat in his stool again, leaning his elbows on his knees to look at me. "By saying that, do you mean to say this child is not Mr. Hawthorne's?"

I bit my trembling lip. The clock on the wall seemed to go backwards as I sat, trying to think of exactly what to say to that. This man seemed loyal to Gale, but he already knew. There was no use denying it. I was just frightened.

Taking a few shallow breaths, I swallowed and admitted, "I was a month pregnant when I got here."

Dr. Illina took a breath, too. He rubbed a hand down his face and glanced back up at the picture of my baby on his computer screen. "You have a problem here, Katniss. You lied to him, didn't you? About it not being his?"

Tears pricked my eyes, but I did my best to suck them back in. "What else could I do?"

A long period of silence followed. The doctor examined his collected data and pictures, chin resting on his hand, but it was obvious he wasn't thinking entirely about them.

"Are you going to tell Gale?" I asked him again.

Dr. Illina looked at me for a lingering moment, boring into my soul with his black eyes. "…Here's what I can do;" He leaned forwards on his hands. "I could tell him. I do have a legal obligation to tell him the truth if he asks, but I do understand he wouldn't be the one to take news like this too lightly."

I tightened my lips and swallowed, nodding as if my neck bones were made of cement.

"I could tell him that it's maturing quite a lot faster than normal." He kept glancing up at the picture. "With hope, he'd know little enough about this to not tell the difference between a two-month fetus and a four-month one."

I doubt Gale'd _not_ understand that. He's incredibly intuitive and smart, even about things he doesn't know.

"Or," Dr. Illina looked me straight in the eyes, "you could tell him the truth."

A warm tear blurred my left eye and I blinked it away. "I…"

"You're choice." The doctor stood up. "Would you like a copy of the picture?" He typed a few things on one of his keyboards.

I ignored that question and asked one of my own, sitting up and pulling my shirt back down. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"It's too early to tell, I'm afraid, with the machinery we have here," he said, reaching to the printer on a desk in the far corner. He pulled out a printed copy of my child, curled in his little nest of static, sleeping soundly, so unaware of the troubles going on outside.

I took it gingerly in my hands and felt my heart bleed through the cracks in my ribs. I stared at him until a bit of saltwater on the page threatened to disturb the ink. I wiped my cheeks and look up at the doctor, who had been watching me through eyes narrowed sympathetically.

"Thank you for…" I couldn't find the words to say. How would I thank a Capitol man for what he just did? "Just, thanks."

For once, a smile stretched across his face. It was not frightening or dry, but kind. He offered his hand and helped me get off the table. "Would you like to know your due date, Katniss?"

I nodded, wiping my cheek again.

"February seventh."

The date rolled over in my mind. Winter child. Subconsciously, I wrapped my hand around the lump.

"But for all current intents and purposes, the date you'd tell would be…" The doctor paused and glanced at his computer. "Around April nineteenth."

I nodded slowly, but before either of us could leave through the door, I swallowed and asked, "Do you think the alcohol hurt him?"

He looked back at me and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "How much of what kind?"

"One and…a half bottles of fireweed spirits."

"Ooh," The doctor grimaced, as though he had a foul taste in his mouth. "Nasty stuff. I think, for the most part, the infant will be unharmed, but any more drinking could serious damage it."

I nodded again.

"Good luck to you," Dr. Illina held the door open for me and gave me the most miniscule of winks. "And congratulations."

Feeling both sad and happy, I clutched the picture with both of my hands and shuffled out of the room. And when I looked up next, Gale was there. He had on the most concerned face, and he was frowning heavily at the dried tears on my cheeks.

"Are you alright?" he asked, reaching out a tentative finger towards a new saltwater drip on my lashes.

Like normal, I ducked my head to avoid his touch, and swallowed. "I'm fine."

"Is this…?" His fingers brushed the paper I was holding, and reluctantly, I let him look at it.

I stared up at him, trembling and feeling so small against the world. I watched his expression change, but it wasn't _right_. It was Peeta who's supposed to be looking at the picture of our child, Peeta whose tears were sparkling on his face, _Peeta_ who pulled me into his arms. There wasn't even time to sidestep away from Gale before he pulled me into an embrace.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against my hair, smoothing it back with a gentle hand. "I'll fix what I've done. I'll make it better."

More tears tickled my eyes, and I scrunched them shut against his shoulder. No energy was present to tell me I didn't want to be held by him. I just…did. He smelled of pepper and shampoo and Capitol-ness and tears.

"I'll fix it," Gale whispered again, and pressed his lips to the top of my head.

I shrank away from his arms and hid my face in my hands. There was no time to look up at the wounded, heartrending face of Gale as I let out a choked sob and ran from him. I don't know where, just away.

My feet pounded on the tile floor as I flew out of the hospital the way we came, and took a left down the huge corridor. People stared at me as I ran past, streaming tears like ribbons. The air felt cold, biting deeper than just the top of my skin. It sank into my bones and heart, and I didn't even stop to think of how I left the picture of my child with Gale.

The hallway got less and less populated as I dodged passed doorways and through separate corridors, and finally I came to one that had no people in it at all. It was the coldest of them all, so empty… I clutched my arms to my chest, shivering, ducked into the nearest room, and sank to my knees. My face was wet and stinging from all the salt upsetting it, but the more I wiped the tears away, the more they kept coming.

The room I'd run into was a closet. Broken brooms and buckets full of dust and dead flies littered the floor.

I held my legs tighter to my chest, burying my eyes in my knees. I cried for my stupidity, I cried for the doctor's kindness, I cried for Prim and Mother and Annie. I cried for the little redheaded girl whom I loved so much, I cried for Gale being Gale. But I cried for Peeta most of all. I wanted him with me, but he wasn't. He _wasn't_.

I don't know how long I spent there in the closet. I felt my head duck and I think I must have fallen asleep, because I woke again who-knows-how-long later with the foul taste of my own breath in my mouth. But I stayed still. Until, that is, there was a small set of footsteps in front of the door. My head snapped up as it opened.

Elizabeth walked in and sat down, not seeming to notice all the dirt and filth surrounding us. When our eyes met, I looked away from her sweet face. She seemed to not like that. Frowning slightly, she put her hand on my shoulder and forced me to look at her. It was obvious she wanted to know what happened. There was nothing else for me to do.

I poured my heart out to her. Everything. From Ivy to my wedding to how excited Peeta and were to finally get a child. I told her about the ultrasound and the doctor who was way too kind, and the picture of my beautiful child. At the end, when I told her about Gale embracing me, I began crying again.

Elizabeth put her arm around me comfortingly and let me cry for a few minutes. Her presence was slight, but so appreciated.

"What am I going to do?" I said into my hands, sniffing up tears through my nose. "I don't know whether to hate Gale or whether to forgive him. I don't even…I don't even know if he's been keeping any of his promises. I want to go back home, Elizabeth. I'm going mad here. I want to be back with my family, I want to be back with Peeta.

She let out a long, slow breath and dropped her eyes to the ground in what looked like an almost guilty gesture. That look made my own breath catch in my lungs.

"What is it?"

She sighed, looking away.

"What is it, Elizabeth?" I asked again, taking her shoulders with my hands.

Carefully, she put her hand into her pocket and took out her notebook. I watched as the tip of the pen was pressed to the paper and wrote out smooth words. When she was done, I took the page and stared at it for a few seconds.

Only eight words dotted the yellow page. Eight words that would change things.

_**I think it's time I show you something.**_

**oOo**

_Happy birthday to one of my BESTBESTBEST friends (whose birthday is on the third), HANNAH. I love you sooo much, have an excellent sweet-sixteen!_


	10. Chapter 10

_This chapter is dedicated to my darling little friend, Brooke, who I accidentally let slip what was going to happen. Also, an honorable mention to Haleigh, who also helped me. Love you both. (:_

_Someone reviewing a chapter or two ago said something along the lines of "We need something good to happen because all of this sadness is depressing me" or something like that. Well, ENJOY._

**oOo**

I looked from the paper to Elizabeth, a frown forming on my face. A nervous twitch had begun growing in my stomach, and I wiped one of my eyes with my free hand before looking back up.

"What do you mean?" I swallowed, hard. "What do you need to show me?"

She took the yellow notepad back and wrote on it again.

_**It's more like a…who.**_

__"Then, who do you need to show me?" In my head, I wondered who she could possibly need to show me. Could this be where she brings me to a room and locks me in it, and it turns out to hold President Snow in it? Highly unlikely, but things have been going too easily lately. I wouldn't be surprised if something horrible went wrong right about now.

The young Avox girl looked uneasy, like she shouldn't be telling me, and she bit the top of her pen. Slowly, she brought the tip of the pen down and drew out more words.

_**If Mr. Hawthorne knew I was telling you, he'd have me sent away.**_

__My chest deflated a little. "Then don't tell me, by all means."

I began standing up, using a broken broom as support, but Elizabeth stopped me. Before either of us could stop her, she scribbled something hastily and shoved it into my hands.

_**I know where they're keeping Peeta.**_

__All of the air _whoosh_ed out of my lungs, and I sank back down to the ground. His name filled my head, some questions, some exclamations, some just repeating over and over… Peeta. He's here. He's here?

"Gale said he'd release them," I choked, shivering into a tight ball in the corner of the closet. "He said he let them go. He lied, he _lied_." My lips moved with inaudible words. "Peeta's here… Peeta's here. He's here. Where?" I sat up suddenly, snapping my head back to the young girl kneeling in front of me, looking guilty and frightened, and clutching her crumpled notepad in one hand.

_**Room 623 in the sector next to the library.**_

__"Where's the library?"

_**Fifth floor.**_

__I stood up this time, bringing Elizabeth up with me, and embraced her tightly around the shoulders. "_Thank you_," I murmured against her sweet-smelling hair, and let go. "If anyone asks, I'm still missing." And leaving her standing there, looking like the world had ended, I ran out of the closet at full speed, with no thoughts other than seeing Peeta again.

The library wasn't hard to find, and getting there wasn't the problem either. It was trying to turn the doorknob of Peeta's room. After struggling up three flights of mostly-abandoned stairs and having to ask two different people where the library was and deciding which sector next to it the right sector was, I stood in front of the pale-mahogany door marked with the tiny gold numbers: 623.

Part of me thoughts that it was the wrong door. There was no sign on it saying "stay out", no iron bar over it. It simply looked like a door. Maybe Elizabeth was wrong. Or maybe she changed her mind and wrote the wrong number at the last second. But my gut told me no; this was the right door.

My heart was thudding so fast, and my stomach was doing flips and lunges. _Come on_. _You've been waiting four months to see Peeta. What's stopping you now? _But deep down, I knew what was stopping me. The guilt of what I have done was greater than almost anything I'd ever felt. How could I tell him? And if I didn't tell him, how could I live with myself?

"It probably isn't even the right door," I muttered to myself, attempting to gather the strength to reach over and take the doorknob.

I did. But it wouldn't turn. The tumblers clicked and rattled as I tried turning it again, but it was obviously locked. Maybe it was the right door after all. But why would it be locked from the inside? Furrowing my brows, I leaned a little closer to inspect the brass doorknob closer, and upon inspection, I saw a little switch on the side. So it locks from the outside. That's more likely. Okay, this is the right door. That didn't help my nerves any.

Before I could regret it, I switched the button and pushed the door open. My heart was throbbing so loud in my ears, I couldn't hear anything else.

At first I thought the room was empty. It was less fancy than my own by far, but still large and well-appointed. A short hallway with a door leading into the bathroom was what I walked through before getting into the actual bedroom. A four-poster was pushed against the left wall, next to a desk, and on the other side was a bookshelf with dozens of books. A huge window let light shatter the thick carpet, displaying a view of a shining metropolitan area. I knew what it was; I didn't need to look any longer. My eyes peeled from the cityscape back across the room.

Then I saw him.

On the other side of bed, on the floor, I could see a halo of blond hair sticking up from the top of the bed. It looked cleanly washed, which surprised me. In fact, this whole situation surprised me. Why was Peeta getting taken care of so well?

Swallowing, I took a step around the bed, and then another.

"You already asked me today, Priam. You know my answer," Peeta said suddenly.

I was frozen in place when I heard his voice. It was broken and sadder than I've ever heard, like it'd been exposed to crying more than it should have. I shivered in place, unable to keep my eyes from Peeta as he gripped the edge of the bed to stand. His back was to me, but the slump of his shoulders was apparent even from behind.

Peeta stood still for a second, as if listening for my departing footsteps. Shaking his drooped head slightly, Peeta began turning around. "I said, you kn—"

Familiar, beautiful blue eyes fell upon mine and his mouth popped open, a moment of dumbfounded silence freezing him in place.

When walking down the corridor, I'd planned what I would say. Step-by-step I had figured exactly what would happen, a routine to stick to so I wouldn't burst out in tears and do something irrational (again). But all of that went down the drain when I saw the look on Peeta's face when he saw me.

My heart split, the shards falling into my feet. And suddenly he was with me. Arms lifted me off the ground, gripping me as tight to him as possible. My skin sparked where he touched me. I clung to his body, fists around the material of his shirt. I couldn't see anything through the shoulder my face was buried in, but I didn't need to.

_Peeta, Peeta, Peeta…_ I wasn't sure if the words came from my mouth, but I was thinking them. I couldn't even feel my own body anymore. All I felt was him and the tears falling from both of our eyes.

I don't know how long we stood there. Neither of us moved, but I felt the rhythm of his heart in the side of his neck where my own face was pressed. I wasn't sure how long we stood there, but it wasn't long enough. When I felt his hands loosen from my back, I lifted my head and felt exactly how much I'd been crying.

His face was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Though stretched from months of pain, his eyes were shining brighter than a full moon, and his tears were stars falling from his face. I couldn't look away from him, even if I'd wanted to.

"Are you actually…" he whispered, "…here?"

I slipped my hands over his, which were on both of my cheeks. "I promise. I promise Peeta, I—" a sob choked my throat and I looked away, leaning my forehead on his chest.

Peeta kept stroking my face, fingers trailing on my neck and hair and cheeks.

"He didn't let you go." The words came from my mouth before I even knew it, and a sudden wave of anger rushed into my throat, making me look back up again. "What are you doing here? Why are you still _here_?"

'Confusion' wasn't even strong enough for the way Peeta's face was contorted. His hands fell from my face and his mouth opened as if to say something. Nothing came out but a little puff of air.

"Oh, Peeta, I didn't mean it that way," I moaned. Just what I needed—another thing to feel guilty about. Attempting to swallow more tears, I reached up to cup his face in my hands. But no words would surface as I stared into his eyes.

Peeta looked down at the floor, and then back up to me. "I guess we have a lot to talk about."

I didn't want to talk. Talking usually led to finding things out I didn't want to find out. Instead of saying anything, I just put my arms around him again and pressed my lips to his cheek gently. "I missed you."

"I'd say that for you, too, but it would be an understatement." He was moving his fingers gently, on my back and sides, cradling me to him. "You have _no_ idea…" Peeta pulled away from me to rest our foreheads together, and I saw his eyes fall down to my abdomen. A huge smile spread across his face, wiping away the sadness in his eyes almost immediately.

"I went to the doctors this morning, Peeta," I said. Part of my mind questioned the relevance, but it was completely relevant. At his questioning look, I twined my fingers around his fingers and smiled back a real, genuine smile.

Peeta bit his lip to keep from looking too incredibly excited, but it failed miserably. "And?"

"I-I forgot the picture, but…" A sinking feeling slowly materialized in my stomach and I furrowed my brows and dropped my gaze. "…There is…_so_ much to tell you."

"Here," Gently, Peeta curled his arm around my waist and guided me to the bed. We stretched out side-by-side together, fingers laced between us. "Tell me everything."

His smile gave me the strength I needed, so I did. Or at least, began.

I started out when I woke up. Seeing Elizabeth, knowing she was an Avox. Apparently, I had just confirmed Peeta's suspicions, because he just sucked in a breath and looked away, face in pain and scrunched.

"She is the one who told me where you were," I said quietly, knowing that I owed her more than I could ever repay. My hand tightened on his and I took a breath. "When I first saw her, when I first woke up, I…I knew that the only thing I wanted to do was to find you and get out of there. I didn't know what was wrong about letting her take me to whoever she wanted to."

"Stupid thinking on your part," Peeta pointed out matter-of-factually, and then offered a small smile.

I just rolled my eyes at him, bitter thoughts filling my head. "I know that. But I'm not done."

"Sorry."

I let a long pause follow. My teeth dug into the fragile skin of my cheek as I tried to think of how to say it. Peeta already hated Gale enough. This was just another reason. After swallowing, I took another breath. "Well, she took me, and I-I—" My voice suddenly broke and I sucked in a sharp lungful of air, feeling saltwater itch my eyes. "It's…"

Peeta slipped his arms around me and pulled me onto his lap, pressing his face against my hair. "It's Snow, isn't it?"

"No." I gratefully nestled into his chest and allowed myself a moment to close my eyes against his shirt, against the world. Then I told him. Everything spilled out so suddenly, I didn't give Peeta a chance to say anything before I launched into the story Gale told me about how he came to be the leader.

The arms around me went rigid when Peeta heard the name, and he let out a low hiss through his teeth.

"I know it shouldn't be this way," My voice was incredibly shaky, breaking every few syllables, "but I-I almost…" Tears blurred my eyes over once again and I hiccupped into his shirt. "I almost forgave him. He…he told me things… I wanted to be his friend again, but…"

Peeta said nothing still, clenching and unclenching his fists against my back. It took a few more seconds for him to calm himself down with a mouthful of air, and let it out slowly against my neck. "Talk about something else. Please."

It almost shocked me into silence how he didn't rant, but I knew that only meant he was beyond angry. I sniffed sadness back up and twisted my head to see his face. It was tight, but he obviously trying to contain his anger. When I kissed him on the cheek again, he seemed to cool a fraction.

"What about?"

Peeta blinked, thinking for a moment, and then reached around me to slip his fingers onto my stomach. Though his tight expression took a few minutes to be erased, it was in the end. "How about your little…bun in the oven?"

I almost laughed, because he was a baker, and I have a…

I let slip onto the smallest of smiles. "He's cooking, that's for sure."

"Was everything okay this morning?" He pressed his lips to my temple. "I wanted to be there…"

"It was alright, I guess." I shrugged slightly, letting the memory come back. "I could see him…so tiny…"

Squeezing me to him briefly, Peeta let out a little sigh. "You're going to have to show me that picture some time."

"Yeah…" My smile slowly turned into frown. "I…left it with Gale. I-I got upset and ran, leaving the picture…"

"And how is _he_ taking this?" Despite everything, the bitterness and loathing was very much apparent in his voice, sour like unripe grapes and black like the sky. "Is he hurting you? Since he obviously knows you're pregnant with my baby?"

This choked up my throat. I couldn't tell him, I _couldn't_. The offensive taste of guilt made drops of water slam their ways out of my eyes and a strangled sob pass my lips. It was all-consuming, self-loathing like boiling water filling every little good feeling I had until there was none. I shivered, feeling alone and empty once again.

Peeta hugged me again, this time fierce and protective. "He _is_ hurting you, that bastard. I'm going to kill him. I'm g—"

"He isn't hurting me," I cried, gripping my arms around my chest and shuddering again. "He isn't hurting me. I-I did something…something _terrible_…"

"I'm sure you didn't, K—"

"I _did_." I pulled gently away from his arms and looked at him with such severe, self-condemning brutality his brows puckered. "I _did_, Peeta. If you…If you knew, you wouldn't want to be with me…" Feeling my shoulders trembling, I hung my head so as not to look him in the eyes anymore. "If you _knew_…" I felt like a monster. I didn't deserve Peeta's love. I didn't deserve his _anything_.

"Stop that, Katniss." Peeta's voice was soft and gentle, breaking through the layer of misery inside my head, and I felt him fold me into his chest again. The blankets from his bed were loosened and folded around me, trapping us together in a veil of warmth. "Nothing you do will ever make me not want to be with you. I love you more than anything. I _forgive_ you, whatever you did. I'll always forgive you."

Stupid boy… I closed my eyes against his shoulder, letting for just one second me to indulge in his sweetness. "Something _terrible_…"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said softly, curling the end of my braid around one of his fingers.

This is what I loved about Peeta, if not everything about him. It was impossible _not_ to.

Letting the covers slide off my shoulders, I sat up on my knees and wrapped both of my arms around his neck. Our hair tangled together as I embraced him, feeling tears of appreciation leak out of my eyes. He held me back. I felt his fingers grip his shirt on my lower back, holding me to him, and I could feel his nose brush the curve of my jaw.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, absentmindedly stroking a piece of his blond hair back. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't apologize," Peeta said, as always, and pulled me away from him to look at me with a glowing sort of pride, love and admiration setting a twinkle into his eyes. "You're here with me, and that's all I care about right now. You and little Peeta junior are safe."

Leaning closer again, I smiled against his cheek. "Still set on a boy?"

"Of course."

I kissed him. He tasted as he always did, like the first ray of summer sunshine and a warm bakery. Three months without his kisses, I got seriously deprived. This made it on the top three best kisses we've ever had, and it only got better when I felt Peeta's laugh tickle my lips.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" Peeta broke away, only an inch, but I could still feel his grin. "And I love you more than anything."

Curling myself against him, I nuzzled my face into his collarbone and slipped my hand around his. "I love you, too, Peeta…"

For a moment, I forgot where we were. The Capitol didn't rise back to power. Gale was dead again (as harsh as it may seem). We were back at home in our bed, huddled under the covers together. It was the best feeling in the world.

"Mm… Hey, Katniss?" Peeta said against my hair, which was escaping from its braid.

"Yes?"

"How long can you stay?"

The moment was over. Letting out a sigh, I shifted upright and rubbed one of my eyes. "I don't know. They're probably out looking for me right now."

He made a curious, sympathetic face and touched my cheek. "What happened?"

"When I got out of the doctors, I sort of…had a breakdown." There was no other way to explain it. I blushed slightly. "And I ran and hided in some closet where no one was. Deserted hallway. I hid there until Elizabeth found me. I told her everything, and apparently she felt bad for me because she told me where you were—even though it could mean serious punishment for her." I rubbed some dried tears off of one of my cheeks. "If Elizabeth hadn't told Gale, then they're most likely still out searching for me."

Peeta's brows furrowed. "…Do you think they'll suspect here and come to check?"

I didn't mean to, but I let out a short, resentful laugh. "I doubt it. Gale lied to me and said he let everyone go. He'd think I didn't know about you… All of the victors he'd captured, he said that he released them already. Months ago."

"He did, Katniss."

I did a double take, frowning deeply.

"When I first woke up after we got caught," Peeta began, "I was in a row of prison cells. Finnick was in the cell next to mine, actually."

"Finnick?" I covered my mouth with my hand. Though I hated admitting it, I'd forgotten about him. "Was he alright?"

"Yeah, he was fine." He got a funny face on, and shrugged slightly. "Not half an hour after I woke, though, officials came in and took the rest of them away to a fleet of hovercrafts to take them home."

My throat got choked up. He could have _escaped_, gone home. And yet… "Why are you still here?"

He shrugged a second time and gave me a small smile. "I couldn't leave you."

"_Peeta Mellark_!" I slapped him on the shoulder, words harsh and louder than they should have been. Not a second later, remorse flooded me and I shrank against him, snuggling into the blankets against his body, shaking. "You gave up your only chance of freedom to be locked up in one room for five years. Idiot boy."

"Hold that thought." Peeta put his finger to my lips. "I want to know why five years, but first I need to say that I get a choice every day."

I scowled around the finger on my mouth.

"Every day, this creepy Capitol man comes and asks me if I want to leave. Every time I say no. I refuse to leave my pregnant wife in the hands of the Capitol, with or without me. I'm only leaving if you leave with me."

Gulping down more shame, I crossed my arms and muttered, "Stupid, selfless Peeta…"

"That's right." The grin on Peeta's face was brief before turning back serious. "But back to what you said. Five years? Is that just an exaggeration? I hope?"

"Nope." I grimaced, and told him about the conversation Gale and I had on the balcony those few months ago. With every passing sentence, Peeta's frown grew deeper and angrier. By the time I was done telling him all about the 5-year deal, he was almost purple.

"No," he said, shaking his head violently. "No. Absolutely not. We're going to find a way out, w—"

"You're not understanding me, Peeta." Though I didn't want to, I argued. "There is no way out—for _me_—except for this. You have no idea how…clingy he's been."

"'There's no way out'," Peeta scoffed in disgust, looking a little disappointed in me. "You're Katniss Everdeen, the Girl who was on Fire. You don't give up that easily."

I scowled defensively, crossing my legs underneath me. "I'm not giving up. I'm letting what's happening happen. I'm pregnant, I'm tired, and I don't feel like fighting. I feel like pretending everything's fine while I figure things out."

"You can't just…" he paused, wrinkling his nose, "…pretend nothing's wrong. First off, I don't want to do this for five years, this sneaking around in my room which I'm stuck in. Room-arrest is maybe tolerable, _for a good cause_." He reached out to squeeze my hand. "But if it can be helped…"

I was no longer able to look him in the eyes. "…I don't want to talk about this right now, Peeta. I have enough on my mind."

To my surprise, he didn't reach out to comfort me. Peeta kept hold of my hand, but just scowled in the opposite direction, looking angrier at the world than at me. I hated him being like that because it looked so alien on his always-good-natured town-boy face. He almost never scowled or looked particularly mad. It broke my heart seeing him like this.

Sighing apologetically, I scooted back next to him and put my head on his shoulder. "I'm sorr—"

"Just _stop apologizing_," Peeta said all of a sudden, letting out a noise of annoyance. But when he looked over at me, his face was forgiving and soft, just so _lost_. "It's not your fault. We'll figure this out. I didn't mean to stress you out, Katniss." He flicked me in the head affectionately, allowing a sad smile to touch his lips. "You don't need any more on your plate. It'd just be best if we breathed for now, and maybe even sent you on your way before Priam gets back and discovers you."

I glowered. "I don't want to go back yet… I'm going to risk just a few more minutes. This is the first time we've seen each other in three months."

He laughed. "As if you need to tell me." Peeta leaned his own head against mine, Lips barely brushing the skin of my temple. "You have no idea how much self-discipline it's taking to sit here with you and behave, after all this time of worrying and being without you."

I had to fight to keep the miniscule smile off of my face, but I didn't do very well. "Why _do_ you? Behave, I mean. There aren't any security cameras around. No one would know."

Peeta's nose crinkled up as smirk cracked across his face. "I don't want to risk anything, love. Especially with the condition you're in." He poked me in the stomach with a finger and I bit my lip to try and not smile back.

"It couldn't hurt anything," I protested, crossing my arms over my chest and grinning at him challengingly. "How could it possibly hurt?"

"I said _no_." Peeta laughed.

"Whatever…" I stretched out my arms briefly before sliding my legs off of his bed and getting up with a groan. "I'm using your bathroom." When I heard Peeta chuckle quietly to himself as I was walking away, I turned back briefly to roll my eyes at him. "It's unbelievable how much pee that can come out of one person in a single day when you're pregnant." And with that, I closed the door of the bathroom to separate Peeta's chuckles and my own silent smile.

"So, tell me about the few months you've been here." Peeta tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. "I stopped you before you could tell me too much before."

We had been laying there in his bed for a while. My back was to his chest and his arms were curled around my waist, and we were both sunk under his covers deep. Of course, we were both still clothed. That was obvious and simple, Peeta keeping to his word but not refraining from laughing about it every few minutes. I wasn't _that_ disappointed about it. Maybe not disappointed at all. It didn't matter, just as long as he was with me.

Rolling slightly in his arms, I let out a breath. "I don't know what to tell you…"

He laughed quietly. "We're in the Capitol. There should be at least _something _to tell. Surely the Mockingjay doesn't get to waltz around being unnoticed."

Bitterness made my nose wrinkle. "I don't know about that one. Gale claims that no one here actually wants to kill me, but I'm not sure I believe him. He hasn't exactly been truthful to me lately."

Both of us knew that the topic of Gale was touchy. Beyond touchy, really. Dangerous. It was obvious Peeta was trying not to act as though he was too terribly bothered, but the tone of his voice betrayed his feelings.

"So, what, you just get the run of the place?"

"Not _exactly_…" I glanced over at the half-open window on the other side of the room and saw the tops of buildings through the corner of my eyes. "I wander around this building, sure. He's never told me I can't. I haven't gone outside to see the town yet, though."

Peeta scoffed in disgust and tightened his arms around me. "He's horrible. I wish I could do something to help…"

Rolling onto my other side to face him, I wriggled deeper under the covers. "You _are_, trust me. I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad, too." A grin slipped onto Peeta's face and he kissed me on each of my cheeks. "I'd never leave you."

"You're going to have to eventually, you know that, right?"

The truth was hard to tell and hard to face. We both knew that we couldn't do this forever, no matter how nice it was. Sooner or later they're going to find out I've been visiting him, and Gale wouldn't be happy at all. Yet…he tells me that he doesn't have me here for romantic purposes, and I make my own decisions, and he won't do anything to directly upset me, blah blah blah. If he found out, it could be a test of exactly how much of what he said was true. Would he sacrifice my trust for his word?

Peeta didn't seem to be thinking too far into it as I was, and he tucked my head under his chin. "Only when you do."

"I'm not letting you stay in the same room for five years, Peeta. It's torture. There's no way that's helping if I have any say about it."

"As long as you come visit me, I'm alright with it." He squeezed me once and pulled away to cup my face in his hands, and I could see no upset in the calm blue of his irises. "You're all I need."

"Stupid boy," I muttered, and wound my arms around his neck tightly, attempting to swallow imminent sobs. "I'm not letting it happen, whether you're alright with it or not. I'll be fine here; I'm in no immediate danger."

"Three months almost killed me, Katniss. You're not going to let me be selfish and want to stay because I _need you_?"

I didn't answer this. It seemed as though both of us thought we were selfish, when in reality, there was no real answer. We wouldn't leave _each other_, and that's that. There must be a compromise…

Peeta's lips just barely brush the skin in front of my right ear. "Besides, I don't want another man raising my child."

I could almost _feel_ my chest being torn in two. I tried to take in normal breaths but they were shaky and uneven. I felt ashamed for crying when I knew he was right. He was right from the beginning, but my obstinacy wouldn't let me have the benefit of the doubt. It would do us no good trying to find the right way out of here.

"I guess we're actually able to blame the hormones this time, right?" Peeta attempted to speak lightly with humor, but the tightness in his voice was obvious. When I just turned away and buried my face in my sleeve, he tutted sympathetically and hugged me to him again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. Never mind, okay? There's plenty of time to work everything out. Don't mind me."

Still, I didn't speak in fear of saying something groundless or rude.

"I really am sorry, Katniss." Peeta kissed me on the forehead.

"I should go…" I mumbled, peeling one of my eyes open to glance sideway up at Peeta. "What time is it?"

He propped himself up on one arm and stretched to look behind him at the clock on the wall. "Eleven."

I flopped back down on my face, wanting to snuggle back under the covers and not get up for another few days. "I should _really_ go. They're probably freaking out…"

"Who cares?" Peeta laughed quietly to himself and tucked his arm back around my waist.

"I'll come again soon, okay?" I wriggled out of his arms and heaved myself upright. "I promise. The second I get the chance."

"He probably won't let you," Peeta said resentfully, scooting to the edge of the bed along with me. "You've been gone for, what, fourteen hours?"

"Something like that. I'll find a way," I swore, letting him fold me into his arms again when we stood up.

He tucked my head under his chin. "I love you."

Feeling a little knob form in my throat again, I closed my eyes against the world. "I love you, too."

Keeping our fingers laced, we took the few steps towards the door together, but I was too chicken to pass through just yet.

"Be strong." Peeta carefully undid my untidy braid and began redoing it. "I'll be here all week, okay?"

When he was done braiding, I leaned up onto my toes and pressed my lips gently on his.

"Hey," Peeta said, taking my face in his hands. "It'll be okay." His thumbs wiped under each of my eyes and I blinked away another set of tears.

"I know…" I took a deep breath, looking away and straightening my shirt. "I know. I'll find out what I can and I'll come back."

"Be careful."

The last thing I saw was his worried face peeking through a crack in the door before slipping into the shadows of the empty corridor.

I walked for another few minutes, but it was only until then I realized just how tired I was. Heaviness weighed my feet down so as where it was even harder to walk than usual. I only made it down one floor before crawling into the nearest closet and falling into a dreamless sleep.

**oOo**

_I know, I know. It wasn't near as fluffy and sweet as I would have had it. But what can I say? I'm rusty, all this time spent without Peeta's deliciousness has hurt me. _

_Peeta will be with us until further notice now. I know you guys were expecting no less than that. But-no one hate me—he'll only be here until maybe…chapter 13? Something like that. _

_Another thing, if anyone has any ideas of how Kat could possibly escape, by all means, tell me. Because I have no idea. I've been thinking and thinking, but nothing makes SENSE. _

_Anyways, thanks everyone, and have a good…whatever. End-of-November or something. _

_Don't forget to REIVEW!_


	11. Chapter 11

_This chapter was surprisingly fun to write… Hope you're not too disappointed! _

**oOo**

When I woke, I had myself convinced that the evening before hadn't happened. Not wanting to open my eyes just yet, I let out a quiet moan and flopped over in my covers.

My covers?

A grunt of tired surprise burbled out of my mouth and I sat up, squinting around sleepily. I was back in my room. The curtains were drawn over the window (daylight was trying to peek through) and all of the lights were off, save one in the bathroom. I was still wearing the clothes I'd been wearing yesterday, and my braid was nearly not a braid anymore. All of this was fine—until, at least, I strained my eyes over to the side of my bed farthest from the light.

A chair appeared to have been dragged over in front of my nightstand, and a dark figure was hunched in it, head flopped on shoulder, fast asleep. It was Gale, obviously. Groaning, I rolled onto my stomach and pulled the comforter over my head. The second I sank my head into the pillow again, Gale let out a heavy sigh in his sleep and woke.

"Katniss?" he whispered blearily, shifting upright in his chair. "Are you awake?"

_No_… "Mostly." I didn't bother taking my face out of the pillow while saying that.

His hand appeared above me and hesitantly peeled away the blanket above my head. I snatched it back.

"It took hours finding you last night." Gale's voice was slightly reproving. "Elizabeth said she stumbled across you in a closet on the fourth floor. What were you doing?"

"…Hiding?"

The fourth floor was the one I went to after seeing Peeta. Did I not dream it after all? I wished more than anything he was here with me right now, slipping his arms around me under the blankets. It felt too empty without him, cold. Maybe tonight…

The accusation left Gale's voice fast and he sank onto the edge of my bed with a sigh. "You had me scared sick. After what had happened…" After pausing for a few seconds, Gale got half-out of his chair to reach something on the desk. He sat back down and handed me a piece of paper, which I had to sit up to receive.

Straining to see through the dim light, I could just barely tell it was the picture of my ultrasound. I squinted back at Gale.

"You left that with me," he explained shyly, rubbing his forehead. "I don't know if…"

"What time is it?" I set the picture down on my nightstand, making a mental note to carry that around with me more often.

"Almost eight. Do you want to go out for breakfast?"

A crease appeared between my eyebrows, I could feel it as I rolled my head to look over at him. "'Out' as in…_out_?"

Gale smiled at me guiltily. "It's high time I give you a tour of the city."

A little spark of fear struck my chest, and for a minute there I was afraid he'd overheard Peeta and me talking about it last night. Over the past few months, he's done his best to assure me that all of the security cameras were disabled on all of the floors except for the first (I've never been to the first floor, so I didn't know why), but I still had my doubts.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I sat up and rubbed my stomach, which was cramping like you wouldn't believe. "Where are Elizabeth and Aprilynne?"

"I've given them the day off." He shrugged and stood up, smoothing out his shirt. I noticed that he had changed before deciding to sleep next to me. "If you want I can wait outside your room while you change."

I gave him the oddest look I could muster. "Yes, that would be good."

Offering me a smile, he gave me a childish salute of the forehead and ducked out of the door.

The entire time I was showering and changing into fresh clothes, I thought of Peeta and what he said to me last night. What should I _do _with him? If I send him home surely that idiotic boy would end up killing himself because he's so dogged and stubborn. Then again, if I didn't send him home that would be horrible and selfish of me. Who in their right mind would keep someone in the same room for five years out of their own egotistical desires? I sighed and pulled a shirt on over my head. I'll work things out later. Right then I was hungry, feeling a very cranky mood coming on, and fighting a spontaneous nervous breakdown.

I left my hair down and still damp, and shuffled out of my room to find Gale waiting there as he said he would.

"You look nice," he said politely and smiled. "Are you ready?"

Raising an eyebrow unsurely, I nodded. "As I'll ever be."

Gale offered me his hand, and when I frowned at it, he offered me his arm. I frowned at that as well, so he just ruffled my hair and began walking, letting me follow alongside. It was good he never pressured me to do anything. Sure, if I ever bothered to make a list of things I didn't like about staying here, it would be an incredibly long list, but it could have been much, much worse.

I glanced over to look at Gale. He had his eyes fixed ahead of him and a content, neutral expression on. I wished I could be that accepting of things.

I followed Gale past corridors I'd never been in, and to an elevator at the end of yet another hallway. He let me walk in first, before dropping three floors.

"Don't freak, okay, Katniss?" he asked me before the elevator doors opened.

"Why would I—?" My words were interrupted by my own huff of breath leaving my lungs as the doors slid open before us.

It was almost an exact replica of the original Capitol building's first floor, down to the carpet. I could not tear my eyes from where I was.

_This is more like it_, a tiny voice said in the back of my head. You kept having to remind yourself where you were since things were so different. Here's your answer right here. People drifted around me and Gale, locking their frightening dry eyes on us before passing. I even saw some people I recognized from my visits years ago. Though I couldn't pin their names, I was certain. Few turned to lock their eyes with mine before giving me tiny smiles of recognition and turning back around to continue with whatever they'd been doing.

_That was the elevator operator for me the first Games_, I thought, staring at a tight-skinned young man in a fashionable teal suit. He was talking to a woman I didn't recognize with orange and black strips running up her face and into her hair, long whiskers growing from the skin above her upper lip. For a fleeting moment she caught my eye and grinned, displaying a mouthful of sharp teeth.

I shuddered and moved closer to Gale involuntarily. He was about to say something to me before his gaze snapped up and locked on something to my left.

"Brace yourself," he whispered quickly, and pulled back just in time to put his hand in the air as a greeting. "Good morning, Effie!"

_Effie_. I let out a squeak before whipping my head around to stare into the face of that very woman.

"Oh my lord, _Katniss_," She threw her arms around me so suddenly, I let out yet another surprised squeak. She smelled too strongly of flowers, but I didn't linger for one second on how she smelled.

I wasn't sure what to do but focus on getting air in and out of my lungs.

Effie pulled away and squished my cheeks in between both of her manicured hands. "It's really you!"

She was the same old Effie. Spring green curls bounced on top of her head, and her overly-enthusiastic Capitol voice chirped loudly into my ears. She looked on the verge of crying and messing up her frightening makeup.

"Effie…" I managed to choke out. "I-I thought you…"

"You poor thing," she crooned, and embraced me again, squishing the life out of me. "I can't believe it. You're so _grown up_. So different from our little fire girl. I wasn't sure what to believe when Gale gave his speech, but— Oh, wait until everyone sees you!" Effie let go of me and fluttered around in her absurd pink dress, waving her hands in front of her face. "They'll be so excited!"

"Wait until _who_ sees me, Effie?"

Part of me was dreading it. I didn't know how to feel about seeing her again, whether to be frightened or happy or what. To be honest, I'd thought Snow had killed her along with Flavius, but here she was, having a meltdown right in front of my eyes. There was no mistaking the horrid scars running from her neck into the collar of her shirt, though. No amount of makeup could hide it.

My animated Capitol friend stopped fluttering for a moment and arched her thin eyebrows comically. "Why, _everyone_, dear. There's Ceaser and Darius and Octavia and—"

"Th-thank you, Effie." Feeling very ill, I waved her off and crossed my arms over my chest. "That's enough. Can we go to breakfast now, Gale?" I looked pleadingly up at him.

"Sure. We'll see you later, okay Effie?" He put his arm around me with concern and led us off. It may be the first and only time I let him do it, but I was actually grateful for the support.

When we got to the massive double doors that apparently led to the main entrance of the Capitol building, I thought that nothing would surprise me. After what had happened, if I went outside and ran into a huge flaming elephant carrying a basket of fruit on its head, I would be less surprised than I was seeing Effie. Thankfully, what I saw was much less astonishing than a flaming elephant.

It was, quite frankly, a city. A normal city, though less frighteningly modern than the "old" Capitol.

"How did you have the time to rebuild everything in only, like, a year?" I asked, staring around in wonder as Gale led us around a long, curving sidewalk.

He seemed to be quite smug that I haven't told him to take his arm away from me yet. A tiny smile appeared on his face. "I will tell you all of that over breakfast. I know just the place to eat."

To my surprise, he stopped us at the side of a chunky black car. The man sitting in front of the steering wheel seemed asleep. Gale rapped on the window and the man snapped his head up.

"Sorry, Mr. Hawthorne," he stammered, and started up the car's engine. It roared to life and sounded almost sick. "Where to?"

"The café on twenty-first." Gale opened the door for me and I awkwardly got myself inside.

It felt too stuffy and closed, and my knees were all bunched up to my chest. When Gale got in next to me, he saw my confused look.

"The twenty-first what?" I asked as the car lurched forwards with a groan.

He smiled again. "It's a way to…tell direction here, sort of. Street names."

My eyebrows furrowed and I turned my head to look out the window.

Buildings flew by almost so fast I couldn't read the names. What seemed odd was that some of the signs hung above empty, dilapidated stores, and seemed very old. Others, though, seemed brand-new and populated. People bustled by entrances and across the road. They all did look like normal Capitol citizens, with their crazy hair and tattooed skin and implants and insane clothing. By the time that the car shuddered to a halt, I wanted to ask the driver to make another round, because I hadn't seen half of the stuff that I'd wanted to.

Gale opened the door for me again and helped me out. My eyes felt dry because I hadn't blinked once.

"Are you alright?" Gale's smile was amused. "You look shocked."

"Of course I'm shocked." Letting out a breath, I shook my head and forced my feet to move. "Let's go. I feel sick again."

I did not eat any breakfast that morning. The food was pushed around on my plate and I tried focusing on keeping mostly normal the entire time. My stomach was doing somersaults, and I kept thinking of seeing Effie. Ceaser…Darius…Octavia. How come she knew Darius' name? How come she knew he was once important to me? And Octavia? The last time I'd heard from her, she and Venia were undergoing serious trials for espionage and homicide. Cinna, I'd already taken care of (thinking about that did not help my stomach settle), after he supposedly "killed" Gale…

How could Gale stay here when it was these very people who tried to kill him?

Gale set down his glass of water and folded his fingers under his chin. "What's that look for, Katniss?"

Poking at my food some more, I scowled deeply. "What do _you_ think?"

"Is it about seeing Effie?"

He could read me like a book. I suppose that was the downside of having your current worst enemy being your ex-best friend.

Feeling a lump in my throat forming, I swallowed and looked up. "Is it true, though? Everyone… Ceaser and Darius and…"

Gale looked away, jaw tightening visibly. "…And Octavia, I know."

"How can you still _be_ here when you know what they've done?" It was getting hard to breathe past the lump. I shoved my plate away and sat back, arms curled around my stomach.

"…It was just Cinna, you know." Gale cleared his throat. "After the trial, apparently the District 13 people decided to just release them out into the woods to die or something. From what Octavia said, Venia _did_ die. Octavia got picked up not long before I did, and good, because Snow would have killed her."

"You're too forgiving," I muttered and sank a little farther into my seat.

His eyes were chips of steel as they fell upon mine and forced me to hold his gaze. "You don't understand. When someone saves your life and practically hands you the throne to a utopia, you don't just go there and slaughter all of them. They're not animals; they can and _have_ been talked to."

"It may have been Cinna to actually kill you," My hands had started to shake, "but Octavia _was_ with them."

"She was forced."

"Do you know what happened after your funeral?" Taking deep breaths, I leaned forwards on my hands on the table closer to Gale. "Do you?"

He was frowning. "…No, Katniss."

"I took Finnick and I went to where you were killed, and I found them, Octavia, Venia and Cinna, huddled like little rats in black cloaks behind boxes. We went to that storeroom and I _killed Cinna_. Because he'd…he'd killed you."

Gale blinked, but said nothing. His face did not betray what he was thinking.

"You may say that Octavia and Venia were under his influence, but you weren't there when they nearly succeeded in killing me. Not to mention they almost killed Primrose in that library. Remember that, Gale? Remember?"

His teeth were gritted and his nostrils flared. "…No."

"No. You don't." I sat back down. "It happened, though. Prim was in the library and they tried to sneak up on her, but Peeta and I came just in time. They ran out of an open skylight window and I chased them. In the pitch black, in the middle of the woods. You know what happened after that, Gale?"

Gale was getting really upset now. He refused to look me in the eyes, and his mouth was a tight line.

"One of them threw a knife and I got stabbed in the shoulder." To prove my point, I pulled the collar of my shirt down over my shoulder and showed him the nasty pink scar. "That earned me a stay in the hospital and yet another surgery."

"What point are you trying to make, Katniss?" he said suddenly, glaring at me and clenching his hands into fists on the table. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that I don't want anything to do with the Capitol or anyone in it!" I stood up again, knocking back my chair and making it screech against the floor.

People around us had begun to stare.

"And if you're so set on being a part of it, I don't want anything to do with _you_." Straightening up, I gave him one last glare and tramped out.

"Katniss, wait," Of course, Gale ran after me. He caught my arm just as I got to the car and he spun me around. "Please,"

"No," I yanked my arm away from him. "I'm tired of waiting. Waiting for you to come home, waiting to be able to go back home myself, waiting for the doctor to decide I'm sane enough to leave me alone, waiting for people to kidnap me in my own house, waiting for you to come and tell me what the hell is going on. I don't want to _wait_, Gale." My words broke often, and it was hard keeping the tears sucked inside of me. "Yet, here I am again. Waiting five years to go back to my family. _Five years_."

He was crushed. Gale's face was pale and twisted, and his grip slackened enough for me to pull mine away. His eyes were wide and sad, and unable to hold the gaze of my own.

"I thought…" His voice was quiet and weak, "…I thought you'd want to spend time with me. After so many years…"

I didn't say anything as he closed his eyes and breathed.

"I thought at least, since we were friends before, you'd understand my side of the story." Gale turned around and leaned his elbows against the car door. "I thought you would forgive me…"

"I'm sorry, Gale," I crossed my arms and blinked away a set of tears, "but you thought wrong."

After that, we said nothing to each other. Our driver took us away from the café and took a good long time before finally parking in front of the mansion that was the new Capitol building. While driving the man pointed out places like the worlds' most depressing tour, unsure whether to talk at all since Gale and I seemed rather upset. At any rate, when we got back to the hall, I opened my door on my own and got out, not waiting for anyone.

I went inside and, ignoring everyone and everything, stomped straight into the elevator. It whined a little as the box carried me upwards to the third floor. It took a few minutes from there to find my way back to my room, but I managed. No one stopped me. I didn't see either of my Avox girls, which was fine, so I just locked myself in.

After bringing it up, I couldn't get it out of my mind. Curled there under the covers, my mind replayed those days back in District 13. There was the day Gale got killed. The day I killed Cinna. The day I went to Gale's funeral and opened his coffin, only to stare at streaks of blood and claw marks. The day I woke up to his warning about Prim, and I got stabbed in the woods running after Cinna, Venia and Octavia.

Of course, I didn't know for sure that Octavia was the one who threw the knife. It was actually most likely Cinna, because I couldn't see the plump Capitol woman being able to throw anything with that precision and skill. But I couldn't forgive her. I couldn't forgive them. Forgive Gale.

_But he had a point_, said a little voice in the back of my head. I've had negative experience with that little voice before, so I ignored it. It kept on talking. _He couldn't leave the Capitol, when it was only select few who had done you or Gale or Peeta any harm. There were only a few. He couldn't abandon the rest of them, could he? _

"Shut up," I stuffed a pillow over my head and sighed into the airless sheets.

_Did you see his face? You hurt him._

I pressed the pillow down harder, as if trying to blot out the image of Gale's wounded expression behind my eyes.

_The least you owe him is an apology._

"I don't owe him anything," I growled, tossing the pillow off.

_He didn't _make _Cinna kill him. Or try to kill you. Or Prim._

Letting out an upset huff of breath, I stood up off my bed and began pacing.

_You didn't hurt him. You crushed him. It was completely uncalled for._

Before I knew what I was doing, I was shuffling down the huge corridor of the third floor. I knew where his room was. Thankfully, he stayed here in the building, not in some house out in the town.

In no time at all, I found myself knocking on his door. My heart felt like it weighed a ton, and guilt dragged my shoulders downwards. When no one answered, I hesitantly turned the doorknob and stepped inside, eyebrows furrowed.

Of course, Gale was in there.

His room was just about as fancy as mine, but larger with a private study and a miniature library on the wall opposite his massive four-poster bed. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, head bent over something in his hands. From there I could tell it was a picture, but of what I wasn't positive.

When I took another step in and shut the door, Gale put the picture face-down on his nightstand and ran one of his hands through his hair, still not looking at me. Cautiously, I walked over and sat down next to him. The situation felt awkward for me. It wasn't my domain, and I didn't even know what I was _doing_ there.

"Katniss," Gale stopped wringing his hands and looked up at me, squinting his eyes. They were red. "What happened to Alexis?"

I could practically feel my heart stop beating and drop into my gut.

_Alexis_.

Such a sweet little girl. My first kid. She was special, but not in the way you'd think. The irony was that when I first got pregnant with her, I thought that she was Gale's (something I'll never forgive myself for). That would be the only reasonable explanation. But she grew too fast, she wasn't quite…normal.

_ "Katniss, I want you not to panic, okay?" the doctor put his hand on my shoulder and attempted to put on a sympathetic look, but it wasn't working for me._

_ "Right. Not panic." I said sarcastically. "How am I NOT supposed to panic?" My voice was starting to rise again and Peeta put his arm around me comfortingly. _

_ "I was going to go into further details of your child but I wasn't able to tell you before you started hyperventilating." When I said nothing to this, he continued. "You have seen wolf-mutts, right?"_

_ "Duh."_

_ I could tell the doctor was slowly losing his patience, but he held his frustration in. "Well, they are wolves with man-made human genes. This baby is a mutt, but not in the way you think. It is still half-human, but the other half is—"_

_ "Man-made?" I mocked his tone._

_ "Well, as you would understand it, yes. Half of this child has been made by the Capitol, and the other half is just a normal baby."_

The first news I heard was taken none too lightly. It was shock enough for me to be pregnant, but pregnant with a child that wasn't actually…a _child_.

I'd never forget the first time I saw her, though. She was unlike any person I've ever seen, so perfect and tiny and…alien_. _

_ The doctor wheeled me over to the glass column and I peered in cautiously. Inside, wrapped in a swath of soft pink blankets, was this perfect little baby. She had an unusually pale face, with little brown freckles scattered across her nose. Peeking out from in the blankets were two large, curious eyes, the exact shade of the sky at noon. Lashes the color of buttered toast framed her blue. What set the whole look off, though, was very thick black hair that was spilling out from under the shade of her blanket and tickled her forehead._

_ I found myself crying. "She…" I sniffed and looked up at Peeta. "She looks just like you."_

It did not last, though. I remembered the day I found out "the news". It was a few days after Gale was attacked, and things were not going so well for me. My doctor didn't like me being around Alexis too much. He seemed almost…repulsed by her.

_"See, Katniss," the doctor folded up his small glasses and pocketed them. "You know Alexis was made in the Capitol, correct?"_

_ Peeta and I nodded. So far this was easy, just shaking and nodded our heads when needed._

_ "Since she wasn't made the 'normal way', measures had to be taken that effected your premarital symptoms. The child wasn't made with your egg; therefore they kept coming as if nothing happened. The child was man-made inside of you, so there wasn't anything your body did, really. Everything went on, just like normal, when there was a Capitol-made fetus growing inside of you, feeding off of your nutrients. It didn't demand more food or strength, so you weren't more hungry or tired."_

All of that was alright, though. Of course, I was shocked beyond belief, but my world was already upside-down. One more thing to surprise me wasn't too big. Until, of course, I listened to what my doctor was actually saying.

_"Her mind," The doctor seemed really hesitant now, "is not that of an ordinary human. She was carefully monitored here in 13 and the doctors traced brain waves and found connections that no other new born child should have. At the rate and form that her conscious mind is developing, by the time she is of age, that is, eighteen years old, her brain will be more developed than your average thirty-year-old."_

_ My hand tightened around Peeta's._

_ "Her thoughts will be so developed and, see," Now the doctor was looking worried and self-conscious. "the doctors found a certain…spark in her." He took a deep breath. "By the time she is eighteen, she will have enough strength, cunning, and willpower to lead an empire, to make it rise. Yet, at the same time, she will have enough of the same to…destroy an empire. And as we examine her brainwaves closer, we-we found that…"_

_ This time it was Peeta who was getting hot. "Found that what?"_

_ "That was her purpose. She was a tool." Dr. Longarden looked sick. "The Capitol implanted her inside of Katniss knowing she would be taken good care of until she was eighteen. Until she made the decision."_

_ "And what would that decision be?" Peeta was returning my shaking, sweaty grip with his own._

_ "Alexis is meant to determine all of our futures. And when President Snow had her implanted, he meant for that to be the destruction of Panem."_

When I thought of it now it seemed utterly preposterous. Maybe he was lying to me, but whatever the case, that day changed everything. I knew he was after my daughter because of the risks, or _whatever_. He wasn't keen on letting her live.

I didn't do it on purpose…but Peeta knew I wanted it. He stood up to my doctor.

_The door swung shut after them, but instead of closing, it slowed down and just tapped against the wall. After a moment of staring after Peeta and Dr. Longarden, I carefully got up from the chair and leaned close to the miniscule crack in the doorway._

_ "…Katniss." Peeta's voice whispered._

_ I held my breath._

_ "She wouldn't understand! I am not even sure you, Peeta, understand. It has to be destroyed."_

_ "No!" He pounded his fist against some type of surface and I winced. What had to be destroyed? "You don't know what she is like! She gets attached to things! There is no way I am letting you near her!"_

_ "The Capitol wants this!" The doctors' voice was growing harsh. "They knew Katniss would be too maternal to give it up, but you can't win."_

_ "Well, I can try." Peeta sounded desperate now. Desperate and heartbroken. "And I will. She's our only daughter. We can't just… get rid of her because of the Capitol. There is a chance that she won't be the end of Panem or whatever. We have a chance."_

_ My heart seemed to thud to a stop. It. They were talking about Alexis. Destroying her? What would that accomplish? My heart started up again, this time raging almost painfully in my chest. If the doctors of District Thirteen want to kill Alexis, I am going to have to get to her before anyone else does._

It didn't work. I felt my throat clog up and I blinked several times to rid tears from my eyes. Maybe it was the hormones, but it hit me hard. The grief. I remembered holding her in my arms. I remembered Peeta's face when he spoke about her. About us. A family. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced, but too good to last.

True, I remembered how she felt in my arms, but I also remembered how it felt, the hatred boiling so real and alive in my veins. I was ready to murder someone, just to have her back.

_A nice brown-skinned lady was sitting at the front desk. When she saw us coming, she perked up. "How are we today, Mrs. And Mr. Mellark? No trouble with the arm? It should return back to normal in a few days, don't worry." She gave a nice smile to me. "What can I help you with today?"_

_ I stepped up slightly in front of Peeta. "We are here to see our daughter."_

_ The ladies' smile wavered. "Name? Your daughter's, I mean."_

_ "Alexis Primrose Mellark,"_

_ "Let's see…" She shuffled through a pile of papers in a drawer and after a few minutes, she came back up, frowning. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Mellark, but we have no record of an 'Alexis Primrose Mellark' in our files today."_

_ I felt a feeling of fright forming in my gut. "Excuse me?"_

_ "There is no record of her." The secretary did a double check, but there still wasn't any record._

_ "What exactly does that mean?" Peeta looked worried as well. In fact, I had the small sense that he already figured it out._

_ "It means that your daughter is no longer using our resources. She is not in this hospital." The nurse looked sympathetic. "Perhaps you would like to speak to someone?"_

_ "Dr. Longarden, please." I clenched my fists. I think I know just what happened to Alexis, and I was on the brink of breaking something valuable._

_ The secretary called him and in a few short moments, he appeared behind us, looking nervous and sweaty. "May I help you two?"_

_ I faced him with a look of pure loathing. "My baby daughter. Where is she?"_

_ He shifted his feet. "I did what I had to, Katniss. For the better of Panem, I took the liberty in—"_

_ But I didn't hear the rest of his excuse. Grabbing a sharpened pencil on the desk, I launched myself at Dr. Longarden with a shrill screech. When I made contact with him, I clung on tightly to his clothing and swing my fist, still holding the pencil, at his head._

_ Peeta looked too shocked to move._

_ The doctor ducked his head, avoiding getting stabbed. "Security!" He cried, ducking again._

_ Well, the pencil wasn't working so I dropped it and just wrapped my arms tightly around his throat, cutting off air supply. The doctor chocked and gagged, stumbling around blindly. But before any real harm could be done to him, a wave of security guards, doctors, and other such people flooded the room and it was chaos._

_ I was being yanked away from the doctor's neck by at least three pairs of hands. Another pair jabbed a needle into my arm, sedating me. I screamed and thrashed around, desperate to get a hold of Dr. Longarden again._

I was crying by the time I was done telling the story. My face was buried in my hands and my shoulders were trembling with every sob that raked my body. Gale wasn't sure what to do. He just sat next to me, eyes turned towards the floor as I cried for my little daughter.

"…Is that why you want to keep yours now?" he asked finally, after a while when my tears had calmed down a little. "Because of what happened to Alexis?"

Wiping my cheeks, I forced myself to look up and nod, even though it was not true. I wanted to keep my kid because he's my _kid_.

Gale looked back away. "…I'm sorry. That's horrible."

"Dr. Longarden ended up being a spy." I laughed bitterly and scrubbed the tears away from my eyes. "I think he ended up getting the capital punishment for unauthorized execution of a child."

"Good." He sighed, followed by a long pause between us. "Well," he continued, "while you're here I might as well tell you what I was going to at the café."

At least he tried acting as though I hadn't been horrible to him. Again.

"See…" Gale rubbed his eyes as if he was tired. "Before you came, I went off every other day to deliver packages to the districts. I've kind of slacked for a few months, but I need to pick that up again."

Of course. He's going to be gone half the time now. Why even bother bringing me here when he's only going to see me three out of the seven days a week. I looked away, expressionless.

"Don't look like that." He winced. "I know, it's horrible, but I have _duties_. I'll only be gone for a few hours. Mondays and Fridays I'm gone just about all day, and if I'm unlucky, into the night. Wednesdays, I'll only be away for three hours, and hopefully you'll be sleeping during then. I don't like doing this." Gale touched my wrist remorsefully, and winced again when I drew away. "It's not fair to you, I know, but it's only a few days a week. I'll make it up to you when I'm here."

I still didn't look or talk to him. It hurt, like the biggest insult. Going through all this trouble just to leave me alone 40% of the time. Such a lovely man, Gale. Swallowing hatred that was long done in, I stood up and walked over to his window. It was, as all of the other windows, a single wall, covered by heavy claret drapes. When I drew them aside, I was again looking down upon the city. People skittered around below me like ants, hurrying to wherever they're going, never stopping to look around.

Gale slowly walked up next to me and crossed his arms. "…I guess I never _did_ answer your questions earlier."

"What question?" I crossed my arms as well.

"You asked me how they'd managed to build an entire city in so little time."

I remained quiet, listening to him.

"Well," He looked almost…proud. "It was already here."

Shooting him a cynical look, I sighed. "Everything was destroyed in the nuclear war, Gale."

"No, no. This is the cool thing," Gale was obviously getting a little excited, as though it interested him a lot. "Alaska was the last of the fifty territories to get hit by that. They lasted a good 100 years after everyone else did, and most of the people died because of the resources getting burned down south."

It was hard to believe, but for some reason, I did. "It couldn't have left a city like this intact…"

"But it _did_." He drew the curtains a little further and looked out over the people and cars. "There was a lot of explaining done to me when I came. They said they found it basically like this, and all they needed to do was kick the electricity on again and cleaned it up."

I just looked out over the town, absorbing this. Most of every rune of North America I've seen weren't intact in the least. To have something this unbroken in such a pure, green land was definitely a marvel.

Now, how to escape it is the problem.

**oOo**

_Whoop whoop! How fun… Hope this wasn't too dragged out or boring. It was more of an…informational chapter. FYI only. _

_More Peeta is next chapter, so bear with me!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Sorry it took so long! You'll like this chapter, I know it… It's dedicated to my beautiful Kasey, who has helped me with the most problematic part of the future plot, so THANK YOU Kasey, and enjoy this chapter!_

**oOo**

"I _am_ sorry I have to leave like this," Gale said, pulling on a neatly pressed jacket.

I was leaning against the wall on the far side of his room, arms crossed, looking out the window, not saying anything.

He sighed at my upset expression. "I'll be back tonight, Katniss. Don't hate me any more than you already do, okay?"

Rolling my eyes over to him, I twitched my brows upwards and peeled myself off of the wall. "Of course."

Why had I even gone to his room in the first place? I woke up from a nightmare with a dreadful headache, and found myself holding a glass of water in Gale's room while he kept apologizing for having to leave me. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't exactly angry at him. This only meant more time for me to be able to sneak into Peeta's room.

Gale just gave me a look. "Elizabeth and Aprilynne should keep you company. Do me a favor and try to stay out of trouble, okay?"

A sarcastic smile touched my lips. "Right."

He seemed unworried by my short answers. After motioning me out the door before him, we walked together back to my room. As promised, both of my Avox girls were waiting there, lounging on my bed, drawing something together on one of their yellow notepads. When Gale and I came in, they sat up and gave us smiles.

"Take care of her," Gale gave them an amused, fake-stern look.

Both of the girls nodded.

"I'll be back tonight. Have fun." And with one last departing smile, he ducked back out the door, closing it gently behind him.

There was a moment of silence when the three of us girls just sat on my bed blinking after him. Elizabeth stowed her notebook away in her pocket and looked at me, asking with her eyes what to do. She was very expressive and easy to read, I'll give her that. But then again, I guess you'd have to be expressive when you couldn't _speak_ your feelings.

I sighed and folded my legs underneath me. I hadn't bothered changing out of my nightdress before going to Gale's room earlier, so I was still in what I'd fallen asleep in. "Gale probably told you guys to keep me in here, didn't he? Room-arrest…" If this is how Peeta felt all the time, I'd hate to be him. And I've only been in my room for, what, two minutes?

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow at me and shook her head.

"But you have to…keep an eye on me, right?"

This time, a tiny smile appeared on her face and she pulled out her yellow notebook.

_**You're thinking about visiting Peeta, aren't you?**_

__I scowled, found out. In front of me, Aprilynne tapped her elder Avox on the shoulder and gave her a curious look, and Elizabeth quickly explained with her hands. After she was finished, Aprilynne clapped her hands over her mouth and grinned at me, ten-year-old eyes sparkling. I felt a blush appear on my cheeks and I turned my scowl to the floor.

Elizabeth wrote: _**You can go if you want.**_

__I looked up in amazement at her. "You won't tell Gale?"

_**We'll cover for you.**_

__Aprilynne nodded, too, and they both bent their heads like the sweet, conniving little girls they were.

I was appalled. Well, less appalled then completely stunned. If these two were willing to cover for me when I visited Peeta then that would mean I'd be able to visit him a lot more often, therefore making things almost bearable.

Heart fluttering with excitement, I kissed both of their heads and nearly skipped off of the bed. "Lock the door behind me. _Thank you_."

Before dashing out of the door, I snatched the ultrasound picture off of the desk, folded it, and hugged it to me.

Elizabeth and Aprilynne waved cheerily after me, and I was gone.

_Yes, yes, yes_. I practically flew down the hallway and up two flights of stairs. People I passed didn't look twice at me, and none gave me any trouble by the time I marched past the library to the sector of rooms I knew to be the correct ones. Without being seen too much, I slipped into the smaller hallways and stood in front of Peeta's door. Everything was silent behind it, and I took that as a good sign, so I unlocked the door and slipped in.

Everything was quiet and dark inside Peeta's room. I used precautions sneaking around the corner and peeking my head in to look around. No lights were on, and the curtains were only half-open, letting what little light in illuminate Peeta's dormant figure in bed.

I let out a little sigh. He looked so peaceful and young like that, lying flat on his back. Both of his arms were folded carelessly across his chest, and his head was flopped to the side closest to me, letting tendrils of blond hair tickle his face. The only thing that told me he was still alive was the slight rise and fall of his bare chest.

My feet sank into the thick carpet as I treaded over to him quietly, and I set the picture I was holding down on his nightstand before sitting on the edge of his bed. The movement didn't wake him. Carefully, I snuck under the covers and sank down on my side next to him, pressing close to his sleeping body. It had been exactly three months since we'd been captured, and this was the first time I'd actually gotten to sleep next to him. Obviously, I wasn't sleeping, but he was, so that's what counts.

We were like that for a while. I curled my arm around his middle and rested my head on his arm, but he slumbered on, and I let my own eyes drift closed. It was only when I felt movement beneath me I opened them again and glanced up at his face.

An endearing little crease was marked between his eyebrows, and I knew then he was awake. One of his eyes opened and peered at me.

"You're here," Peeta mumbled, still waterlogged with sleep. His eyes drifted back closed, but he was smiling. "When did you get here?"

I couldn't help but smile as well. "Not too long ago. You can go back to sleep if you want."

He turned on his side and swept his arms tightly around me, burying his face in my neck. "Mmhm."

Trying not to laugh at the only ticklish spot on my body, I wriggled away from him and reached to get the picture off of his nightstand. "I brought something for you."

Peeta kissed my throat before sitting up and taking the piece of paper from me. He gazed at it for a few seconds, and then glanced over at me. "Is this…?"

I nodded, looking over his shoulder at the garbled picture of our child. "The doctor said it was too early to tell what its gender is, b—"

"It's a boy," Peeta said confidently.

"Is it?" I rested my chin on his shoulder briefly before taking the picture again and setting it back on the nightstand. "I've been wondering how it's all going to work out…"

He gave me a sweet, inquisitive look as we settled back down on the pillows. "As in raising him?"

"That and…well…" I sighed, wrapping my arms around my knees. "Just everything. Gale thinks it's his. What do I do with _that_? He's going to want to name him, and if it's five years, that's five crucial years of his life. There are going to be questions asked when we get home, and I don't know if any of this is best…"

"What do you suggest we do?"

To Peeta's question, I snorted quietly. "I don't know, Peeta. I don't."

"You said something about naming." He cracked a grin at our little inside joke. "He's stuck in _your_ gut. You don't have to let Gale name him if you don't want to."

"Oh I won't, trust me." In my head, I imagined that happening. Gale naming my kid… That would be a laugh. Making a face, I shook my head and shifted back onto my left side. "We're just going to have to come up with a name before he does."

"I've been trying to convince you!" Peeta laughed. "It's about time you agree."

I scoffed. "I didn't meant now."

"Oh." He deflated, but perked up a few seconds later, putting his arms around my shoulders. "I just remembered yesterday…"

"Remembered what?"

"This is the one-year anniversary of your head thing." Peeta poked me on the scar on the side of my head.

I almost laughed, but the memory prevented that. It sounded funny spoken out loud, and it would have to anyone who wasn't there. But I _was_. It was not a happy ordeal, getting your brain cut open and operated on, having your memory on the line.

"And that also means that next week is your birthday." He grinned in pride, remembering something I didn't. When I didn't say anything, Peeta flicked my ear. "I wanted to get you something, but seeing as how I'm stuck in here…"

I saw his mischievous little grin, and I knew what he was leading on to.

"You told me no the other day," I said in annoyance.

"I know." Peeta looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "It's a shame. Maybe after Peeta Junior is born."

"I really think I'm going to let you stay that long?" He frowned at me, and I just sighed. "No, I'm kicking you out some time. I'm not that mean, keeping you here. As soon as I manage to convince you."

Giving me an incredulous roll of his sky-blue eyes, Peeta just prodded me gently in the side. "_Never. _I'm staying as long as you're staying."

"Mm…No you aren't."

"Of course I am," he said cheerfully, but not a second passed when his smile abruptly vanished. Peeta whipped his head around to stare at the clock.

Frowning along with him, I sat up and touched his arm gently. "What is it?"

"Priam comes at eight every day." Peeta looked seriously annoyed, and swung his legs off of the bed. "Darn it… We have fifteen minutes. I need to get dressed."

For some reason, I felt quite a bit less stressed than he was, and just sat there on his bed, watching with one eyebrow raised as he tripped around on one foot, changing from his pajamas to a normal pair of clothes.

"Why do you care if he sees you in your undershorts, just out of curiosity?"

Halfway through pulling his shirt on, Peeta paused and gave me an amused look. "You may not mind, Katniss, but everyone else does. It makes them a lot less lenient on their 'hospitality' if I abuse it by running around without clothes on all the time."

Flopping onto my stomach, I crossed my ankles in the air and gazed at the picture of my ultrasound again. "Shame…"

"You might want to disappear elsewhere for a few minutes," he noted while checking the time again. "It wouldn't be good to get locked in after Priam comes."

"Fine…"

Sighing, I rolled off of the bed and stretched. Part of me was like, _Hide under the bed. It wouldn't be THAT bad to get locked in._ But then again, I wouldn't get the chance to get back out… Ever. Only pausing to give Peeta a quick kiss on the cheek, I snatched up my picture and ducked out of the door, locking it behind me.

What made most sense to me was waiting behind the nearest door, so I did exactly that and snuck into an empty room adjacent to Peeta's. Thoughts were floating around in my head; mostly welcome, but butting into the joy of seeing my husband again were thoughts of Gale. He muddied my feelings. Sometimes it was just better for me to not think of him at all, but how couldn't I?

Sitting there against a closed door, I could hear and feel the vibration of soft approaching footsteps outside in the hallway. Without seeing I knew they led up to Peeta's door, and sure enough, there was the unmistakable click of the doorknob turning and it closing behind who Peeta called Priam. A sudden flare of worry for Peeta flared in my chest that I had to swallow down. Priam won't hurt him. He can't.

Despite the numerous urges to stand up and bolt into his room shrieking like a banshee, I managed to stay put until I heard the door open again. I waited a minute after the footsteps vanished before poking my head out to check the hallway. It was clear, so I unlocked Peeta's doorknob again and walked in. My nightdress swished around my feet as I walked, and the wide collar was slung low on my shoulders. I felt a lot older and—though I felt a little embarrassed to admit it—maybe even a little prettier. Perhaps it was just being around Peeta that made me feel beautiful, but I didn't think about that too terribly much.

Back in the room, I treaded lightly over to Peeta's bed where he was sitting cross-legged, eyes vacant in thought, a tray of food on his lap. I sat across from him and sit on my legs, tucking a stray bit of hair behind my ear.

"Everything okay?" I asked him.

He raises the corner of his mouth slightly, eyes twinkling at me. "Yeah. He asked me, I said no, so he gave me my breakfast and left. Have you eaten already?"

With a shrug, I shook my head. "No, but it's okay. You eat."

"You need to keep up your strength." Peeta pushes the tray towards me.

"I'm alright, Peeta. I'll eat when I leave." To show him I'm okay, I smiled reassuringly and propped my chin up on a hand.

He raises his eyebrows and puts a piece of toast in my hand. "You're eating for two."

He won, and both of us knew it. I took the toast and we ate in silence, sitting facing each other.

"You know," I said after we finished eating, "I wouldn't be able to stand this for more than about four hours. Not being able to get up and walk around whenever I want."

"I'm not leaving." Peeta blinked defiantly at me.

"Yes you are."

"I'm not leaving you here," he repeated.

I took the tray and set it down on the floor to be able to scoot up next to him. "If this about me—you know, you don't want to leave me and all—then maybe it'd convince you if I said I would die of guilt if you actually stayed here for five years just for me."

Giving me a look, Peeta put his arm around me and gave me a teasing little kiss on the neck. "We can't have that, now, can we?"

"That isn't agreeing or disagreeing with what I said." I scowled slightly, but still felt little goosebumps on my arms from his kiss. "I'm serious. I'd die of guilt."

Peeta changed his face to serious and he sighed, resting his forehead on my shoulder. "I can't leave my pregnant wife here. I just can't."

Feeling a little sorry, I rested my head on his and pressed my lips against his skin lightly. "I'll be safe."

"Not with Gale," he mumbled into my shoulder. "Not with what he's doing to you. _I_ would die of guilt if I left you."

"Then I guess both of us are going to die, then." I was getting frustrated with him. "The fact is, Peeta, that I'm safe here. I practically own the place as much as Gale does. I know you'd feel guilty for 'leaving' me, but it isn't leaving. It's freeing."

"You're saying I'm oppressing you?"

"No. I'm saying the guilt is oppressing me. At least I could live with myself if I know you're safe back at home."

He took his face away from me and wrapped his arms around his legs, staring at his knees, obviously upset. "…I can't."

"You need to go back and take care of Prim and my mother." That was going to be my "last resort" whining, but I guess this _was_ the last resort.

"…They can take care of themselves."

"Just, _stop this_," I hissed, infuriated. Standing up, I crossed my arms and scowled my most upset scowl at him. "Stop acting this way. I'm not letting you stay here; that's sadism."

Peeta looked sad and melted. "…You want me to leave?"

"Yes, I do. But for your sake." When I saw wetness appear in my husband's eyes I completely broke down with remorse and sank to my knees on the bed at Peeta's side, doing my best to keep tears in as well. "I don't want you to be stuck in here."

"I love you," he said quietly, and I could hear the unhappiness in his voice. "All I need is you. As long as you visit me, I'll be okay."

"No you won't." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "It would destroy you."

Peeta knew I was crying, even though he couldn't see my face. Letting out an apologetic sigh, he pulled me onto his lap and buried his face in my neck. "Please don't cry, Katniss. I love you. Please don't cry."

"I'm not crying," I insisted, even though I was.

"You understand my side, though, don't you? You know where I'm coming from?"

I nodded glumly. "I do. And trust me, I can't live without you either. It would be torture. I love you more than anything, Peeta. Don't think this is easy for me wanting to have you away from me, but I would rather be in pain than have you stuck here."

"This is rather a problem, because I feel the exact same way." Letting out a loud breath, Peeta kissed my head. "I can't let you be alone with him, Katniss. I understood…I-I know what you did now. When we first saw each other again, you said you did something horrible."

I stopped breathing.

"But in my head, it wasn't your fault."

"It was," I cried, burying my face in my hands. "I got drunk, Peeta. Gale and I got into a big fight and I ran away from him and got drunk. I didn't mean to, Peeta. I'm sorry."

"Shh…" He cradled me, smoothing his hand down my hair comfortingly while whispering against my hair. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault. It's his. Now you see why I can't have you alone with him?"

"But it was only once, Peeta." I sniffed. "You have no idea how torn he was. That hurt him a lot, I know it did. He was so upset at himself to the point of masochism. I know it won't happen again. I don't like being alone with him any more than you do, but I know I'm safe here."

"No…"

I liked to blame the hormones when I started crying quietly. My heart was torn in half, fighting each other brutally. I could feel every bloody scar the two sides gave each other, and with every wound, I cried harder. I loved Peeta, I wanted him, but I wanted him to be free.

"Please don't cry," Peeta said again, pressing me against him. "Please."

When I found my voice, I knew what I wanted to say, but when I opened my mouth, something else came out. "I love you, Peeta."

So many times I've told him that. Countless. Why should right then feel any different?

It still did.

With one of his hands, Peeta cupped my neck and pressed his mouth against mine. Immediately, I felt better. I could taste salt on his tongue, and I shivered at his hands curling around my hips. Normally, it was easy knowing what was on his mind or how he felt in these situations. I knew he was sad by the slowness of his mouth and breath. I knew he was excited by the way he was gripping me against him. I knew _exactly_ what he was thinking by the low moan coming from his throat that I could feel through my lips.

"Peeta…" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands onto his chest to separate us. "You said no."

"I changed my mind." He pulled sideways to kiss the line of my jaw. "No one would hear us."

"Filthy hypocrite." I sighed, but I didn't really want him to stop. The thing that kept popping up in my mind was how not an hour ago he was the one completely against it and _I_ was asking. Now it was the other way around. How come we couldn't get our sex life in tune?

Peeta didn't say anything to my hypocrite comment and kept kissing me. He kissed my throat and the nape of my neck. His fingers were exploring me; my thighs and hips and chest and curling around my shoulders. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I didn't. Shivers were constricting my stomach and I felt my heart hammering under my ribcage.

Peeta's body felt so hard and familiar against mine. I placed my hands on his stomach and felt every time his diaphragm tightened.

"I'm sorry I upset you," he whispered on the underside of my jaw. "I didn't mean to."

"I know." I swallowed, but didn't say anything except for that.

Releasing a breath against my skin, Peeta lifted me in his arms and shifted away to scoot me under him. I caught a glimpse of his sparkling azure eyes when he opened them to look at me. They were begging me. I hoped he understood the gentle rejection in my own, for I didn't want to say "no" in words to him.

I didn't know if he understood or not, but either way, he still pressed me against him and kissed me hard. Fighting a losing battle against myself, I slid my hands up his shirt to trace the lines of his abdomen and hipbones. He let out a little gasp against my lips. He smiled and let me tug his shirt over his head.

"I'm not letting us go any further than this, Peeta," I warned him gently when I felt him tug on my nightdress some more. "I don't want us to have sex just to make us both feel better when we're upset. It doesn't change my mind."

"I'm not trying to change your mind." He sneaks his mouth around my head and I felt it against my ear.

"Well, your mind has obviously been changed." I couldn't help but laugh a little, and pull away to put both hands on his chest for support. "We can't. You know we can't. You said so yourself."

Peeta looked sad. "I know that."

"I don't feel like thinking about you leaving any more today. Nothing's stopping us from kissing, though."I pulled him down for another short kiss.

When I put my arms around his neck and pressed our lips together, he chuckled. "Good." After pulling away for a second, in a ridiculously seductive voice, Peeta whispered, "Because you taste delicious."

"Shush." Just like old times, I smacked his chest and we both laughed. For a minute it almost felt as if we weren't trapped in the Capitol. For a minute, I was almost happy. There with Peeta, curled in his bed, tangled in each other, I felt as if I could stay there forever.

Eventually, Peeta agreed. It took a long time—weeks, admittedly—but after a lot of persuading and crying (triggered by hormones, I swear), he agreed to leave. Not right away, because the day he finally agreed, we were both so upset I told him he didn't have to right away, so we just cuddled in bed for a little bit until he fell asleep and I snuck out.

The end of October was when the snow came. It was chilly one day, and the next it was freezing and snowing giant snowflakes that floated to the ground like frosty white stars. It coated everything in just one night, and in the morning when I looked outside, all I saw was this endless field of white, with tiny bits of green trees peeking through the layer.

November sailed by quickly, the temperature dropping a tremendous amount within just those few weeks. I no longer enjoyed going outside, afraid that my eye juice would freeze.

I continued seeing Peeta, of course. Twice a week I got to spend the day with him (minus when I had to creep out for Priam to come and ask Peeta if he wanted to leave yet). Every time, Peeta said no, but we both knew one of these times he was going to say yes. Obviously, we would agree to the exact time, so I was never afraid of him leaving without saying goodbye. Every time I saw him it was the same thing; cuddling, sometimes arguing about pointless things, kissing until one of us would have to stop it before it got too serious.

With every day passing, I grew. I was well into my second trimester and getting giant. My stomach ballooned out in front of me with no mercy, making me feel awfully fat and disgusting sometimes. I went to the doctor regularly (he never brought up the father issue again) and every time I got an ultrasound, I'd show Peeta the picture. He loved it, obviously.

It was about when I was five months in I could feel my child kicking. At first it scared the living daylights out of me; I was just minding my own business, making myself a sandwich in the kitchen, when I felt a little nudge. It tickled my inside, making me gasp in surprise, and I was frozen in place until it bumped again. Needless to say, I didn't finish making that sandwich.

He moved every time I talked after that. When I spoke to Peeta after that first time, he spent half an hour talking to my stomach before it would finally kick for him. When it did, he actually cried. How I was going to stand being without him, I had no idea, but I pulled myself together and pushed that out of my mind.

December lit up the sky with color. Bulbs of light every hue of the rainbow was draped over the houses and streetlights and buildings. I didn't understand the lights so much (we were never big Christmas celebrators in District 12), but I was there to see the lights be put up on a massive pine tree on the first floor of the Capitol building. Despite my upset that day (Gale and I had got into yet another fight), I'm going to admit the warmth I felt when the beam of colors hit my face.

Neither Peeta nor I mentioned the trivial holiday on our visits. It only came up on Christmas Eve, when Gale was delivering his Christmas supply of food to the districts. I got a chance to be with Peeta that night.

I was draped over Peeta chest, dozing lightly, while he played with my hair and talked to me about stuff that wasn't important enough to pay attention to.

"Katniss?"

I mumbled something, just dipping back into consciousness from my catnap.

"Katniss."

"Hm?" Letting out a throaty sigh, I struggled onto my side and peeled my eyes open to look up at him.

He was smiling lightly. "Are you coming to see me tomorrow?"

"Mm…" I rubbed my eyes. "I don't know. Why?"

"Because… it's Christmas tomorrow."

Returning his sweet little smile, I rolled off of Peeta's chest and snuggled against his side, letting him curl his arm around me. "…Well, then, Merry Christmas. If for some reason I can't come."

Peeta pressed his lips to my temple. "Merry Christmas to you, too. You know what I want?"

"You're not getting it." I sniggered against his shoulder.

"Not sex, silly." He briefly tickled my ribs, but then got serious and sat up—I sat up with him. "No, something else."

Wrapping my arms subconsciously around my swollen belly, I rested my head against his shoulder to contemplate. "What?"  
>Peeta laced his fingers with mine over my stomach. "I want to name him."<p>

At that perfect moment, I wanted nothing else. Trying not to grin, I stretched my neck up and kissed Peeta. It lasted for a few seconds more than I would have intended, but when we pulled away, I let my smile show through. "I'd like that."

The next day was Christmas. I woke up to my bed being jostled around quite a lot, and I opened my eyes to Aprilynne. She was jumping up and down on my feet.

"Stoppit," I grumbled, throwing a pillow at her and missing. "I'm up."

Grinning widely at me, Aprilynne did as she was told, but skipped to the foot of my bed and proceeded to pull me out.

I whined, protesting weakly. "What is it?" When I glanced up at the doorway with my sleepy eyes, I understood.

Gale was in his nightclothes, leaning against the doorframe, looking amused at the little Avox's method of waking me up.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said in a light tone. "How are you feeling?"

Grunting, I slid off of the bed and had to regain my balance, putting a hand on my stomach. It seemed to be one of the biggest creators of my issues on keeping upright. "Like my bladder is about to burst. Out of the way." I pushed past him and stumbled into the bathroom.

I had mixed feelings about his joviality this morning. On one hand, I was kind of glad he was happy instead of doing his whole moping-around thing, but on the other hand, I didn't feel like being a sweet little angel to him even if he's trying to get my attention. Then again, I never really feel like being a sweet little angel to him. I didn't think I'd ever get over what he'd done.

After I was done with my shower, I shuffled back out and sat on my bed with Aprilynne and Elizabeth, who'd appeared while I was gone.

Gale leaned against the wall in front of me. "Merry Christmas."

I wanted to smile a little bit, simply because it reminded me of a few years ago on Christmas. Gale and I had shot a fat white hare and ate it in the woods together. It was a good day.

"Merry Christmas back." Letting out a muffled groan, I shifted my legs up onto my bed and stretched out again, lacing my fingers over my stomach. "Why did you wake me so early?"

"It's ten."

"Still."

Gale smiled at me. "It's Christmas. I wanted to give you your present."

Despite the holiday spirit in the air, I scowled at him and put a pillow over my head. "No presents, Gale."

"Yes, presents. Here."

I felt something tap my pajama-adorned knee and I peeked my head out of my pillow to find Gale poking me gently in the leg with a long brown package. Taking a moment to shoot Gale another evil glare, I took the box. He just _had_ to flaunt the fact that he now has a lot of money and was able to get me things. Way to make me feel like crap, Gale. I said nothing, though, and opened the box.

My heart fell into my stomach and I nearly screamed in frustration.

It was a bow. Long and sleek, made more like the bows back at home than the ones I was used to here in the Capitol. It was a dark brown in color and felt like water in my hands, curving gracefully at the end. Nestled in tissue paper in the bottom of the box was the waxy string for it wrapped around a thin tan quiver with twelve arrows.

Instead of being elated, I felt furious. Shoving the box with my Christmas present(s) off of my lap, I struggled off the bed and cursed. "Damn you, Gale! What is this?"

He looked startled at my outburst. "What do you mean? I thought you'd like it."

Breathing heavily, I tried to think of something to say back to him. Nothing came to my mind, so I just let out an irritated growl and stomped back into the bathroom, fighting sniffles.

The _nerve_ of him! Giving me a gorgeous bow and set of arrows for the Christmas after he kidnapped me and Peeta. It was like the ultimate insult, especially considering the history we've had. Sitting there on the closed toilet seat, fuming, with my head in my hands, I vowed to never pick up that bow again.

A minute later I heard a tentative knock on the door.

"Katniss?" Gale sounded nervous and apologetic. "Please come out."

When I said, "No," I realized that tears had been streaming down my face, because the negative word was garbled and wet.

Elizabeth came in and sat with me. I didn't really care that I had forgot to lock the stupid door, because I enjoyed her shoulder to lean my head on. Of course, I'd prefer Peeta's, but the sweet little Avox girl would have to do. Surely she understood what upset me so much.

Patting me comfortingly on the back, Elizabeth pulled out her notebook with her other hand and uncapped a pen with her mouth.

_**If you'd like, I can send him off for a few hours.**_

__Again, I felt guilty. I pulled my arms around Elizabeth in a brief hug. "You do too much for me."

She smiled, and I could see a bit of pride in her eyes. She patted me again and slipped back out of the bathroom, closing the door. I snuck over and pressed my ear to the door.

After silence for a few seconds—I guessed Elizabeth was writing something for Gale—I could hear him speak with disappointment.

"I didn't mean to upset her," he said quietly. "I thought she'd like to go hunting with me again. To take her mind off of things."

Pause again.

"I know she won't. But I have to try, don't I?"

I listened for the next words he spoke.

"It's Christmas. I'm not going to leave her."

Pause.

"I know, but I want to try again."

Pause.

"Don't be so negative. You don't know like Katniss I do." He sighed heavily. "I want to stay with her."

Pause.

"….I still don't like it. I know you take care of her, but I don't like bringing her here and then leaving her every other day."

Pause.

"Just for a few hours, then." I heard him walking across the room towards the bathroom where I was, and I scrambled back to my spot on the toilet, wiping away the tears that had stopped flowing by then.

Gale knocked again. "Please open."

"It's unlocked," I said coldly, hunching down low on my throne and hugging my abdomen.

He didn't seem to like opening the bathroom door and shuffling in to join me. Though, he kept the door open and stayed only a foot in.

"You're leaving?"

Gale frowned deeply at the floor. "…I don't like it, but I know you need some time."

"You're a bastard," I said simply, giving him an indifferent look. "You really are."

He looked insulted. "I didn't mean to upset you. You know that."

"Whatever."

"…Anyways," Gale now had this seemingly permanent disturbed look on his face, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I really _am _sorry. Maybe you can forgive me."

Silence.

"I'll be back at two, okay?"

I still didn't look at him. Sadly, that didn't pay off because I didn't see him when he walked up to me. I only noticed him standing there when he bent down and kissed me on the head.

"I'm sorry," he said, and left.

I waited a few minutes before standing up and bellowing in frustration. Literally _bellowing. _Elizabeth and Aprilynne came rushing in right as tears starting down my eyes again and I avoided their touches.

"I'll be back in a few hours," I sniffed, and stormed out.

It took me a record amount of time to get from my room to Peeta's I kicked the door open and stormed in, trying to suck the tears back into my eyes but there were too many. Peeta was startled at my sudden appearance and stood up.

Letting out an unintentional whimper, I slammed into his chest and wrapped my arms tightly around his torso, burying my face in his shoulder.

He returned the embrace automatically. "Katniss, love," he crooned, smoothing my hair back with a hand. "What happened?"

I took a deep breath but had it interrupted by another choking tear. Peeta shushed me again.

"I've got you…" After taking my face in his hands, he kissed both of my eyelids and gazed at me until I calmed down. My heart slowed slightly as he held me, and before long, I was able to breathe normal and open my eyes to look at him.

Peeta's face was creased with worry. "Are you okay?" He touched my cheek.

"Yeah…" Wiping my eyes and sniffing, I pulled away with embarrassment. "I'm just…being stupid. I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you're not being _that_ stupid." Peeta's cute little smile cheered me up, even though it did not fully cover up his concern. "Now, what's wrong? What happened? Did Gale hurt you again?"

Sweeping another hand under my moist eyelashes, I kept silent.

"Did he?" Peeta pushed.

Pouting with upset, I shrugged defensively. "…He… He didn't _hurt_ me." I dropped my gaze. "At least…not physically."

There was nothing said by Peeta; he let me continue when I wanted, comfortingly putting his arms back around me.

Feeling a humiliated blush creeping onto my cheeks, I mumbled, "For…for a Christmas gift, Gale… Well, he got me a…a bow. It just felt like a huge slap in the face." Again, I wiped my tears. "We got into a fight."

It was shaming having to admit it after the fact, after it happened and my mind had cleared somewhat. I felt as though it was nothing to have been so upset about. As soon as I told Peeta, he disagreed.

His teeth visible gritted and I felt the infuriation through the hands that had been tracing reassuring shapes into my back.

"I'm going to kill him," Peeta hissed, but he suddenly let out a little gasp that sounded panicked. His eyes bored into mine. "Did they follow you? Do they know where you are?"

"Calm down," I said, shaking my head and frowning. "Gale left until two. Only the Avox know."

The relief was obvious in the heavy breath released. Peeta's hands became gentle again and he put his chin on my head.

"I'm sorry Gale did that to you," he whispered. "He had no right."

Again, I was silent. Heat from my chagrin was still touching my cheeks, so much as where I couldn't look at Peeta without feeling shame.

"Hey," he said gently, turning my face towards him with a finger. "Merry Christmas."

After that, things were okay. I calmed down and (almost) forgot about Gale, and was with Peeta on his bed. While he was sitting up, I was on my back. His hands were just barely resting on my stomach as the quiet between us softened the harsh lights streaming in from the window.

A few moments passed, and Peeta lifted up the hem of my shirt to peer closer at the stretched, pale skin. I watched as he did this, and he didn't give me a sideways glance.

"Merry Christmas," Peeta told my stomach pleasantly, patting it.

It was impossible not to smile and hold back laughter. A second after he spoke, I felt something stir inside of me. _Literally_. From the pit of my stomach, I could feel a small jolt, but it lasted a lot longer than normal, pressing on the tender skin inside of my gut.

Peeta was grinning down at my abdomen. "He's stretching. You can see his two little feet…" He put his thumbs right where each other the footprints were visibly protruding from inside of me.

When I sat up, the feeling in my stomach went away and I sighed. "…I don't even know how to be a mother."

With an affectionate peck on the cheek, Peeta said, "There is always a time for firsts. No one is born with the automatic knowledge of babies. You'll do fine, I know it."

He still didn't have me convinced.

"Hey," He grinned again. "I was up for a long time last night thinking."

"About what?" Letting out a quiet grunt, I shifted my position on the bed and settled down.

"Names."

Of course. That's what he wanted for Christmas. I was never good at giving gifts, but this I could do. Patting my stomach, I asked, "What do you have in mind? You're actually going to _tell_ me this time?"

Normally, his list would consist of twenty names and him be excruciatingly indecisive. But this time, it was just one.

"Forest," Peeta whispered.

I blinked in surprise for no apparent reason. "Forest? Why Forest?"

My confusion didn't hinder Peeta's enthusiasm. He wound his finger with mine and leaned against the headboard with me so our faces were just inches apart. "Well, why not? It's where everything happened. It's where we grew."

I knew that he didn't mean we literally "grew up" in the forest, but it was where we grew _together_ and where we became…adults, taking only a few weeks to change our lives forever.

"I don't know." Eyes sparkling, Peeta pressed his lips to my temple. "If nothing else, it's a nice name."

To his wide, beautiful grin, I just had to stretch up and give him a kiss back. "It is. It really is. But what if it's a girl?"

"He isn't," he shrugged confidently. "But just to amuse you, if that happens, you'll be in charge of the name."

"Okay." I smiled, watching out the window as snowflakes fell like shattered glass on the town before us.

That afternoon when Gale came back, I let him take me to dinner. Not outside, of course, but I didn't complain when he insisted having private chefs cook us a Christmas meal. As we ate, it took a lot of guts to swallow my pride and apologize for being so upset at him. Gale accepted graciously and blamed it on my pregnancy. Once again, my hormones save the day.

When we got back from dinner, I kept secluded in my room, alone save my reflection in the mirror and the haunting bow that lay across my desk. I would have never imagined _touching_ it again, nevertheless actually _using_ it.

Then again, life has its ways of surprising me.

**oOo**

_PHEW. Alright, alright. As a fair warning to all of you, I've concluded that there is no graceful way of going about the next couple of chapters, so my apologies if they're…choppy. With hope they won't be THAT bad. I'm just warning you guys. _

_So anyways, what do you think? You like that name? Forest? You think the story is going too fast? Hate it? Love it? _

_REVIEW. Please? Love y'all! Have a good Christmas!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Thank you to everyone for convincing me to have Katniss tell Gale that the kid is not his. I'm not putting that in this chapter, but it's coming soon, okay? _

_Now, another thanks to all the people who reviewed the last chapter. I was secretly waiting until I got fifteen reviews, and then I would boss-type and get the next chapter out before the year ends. If under fifteen, I'd have to get it out in January. But fifteen reviews I got, and so BOSS-TYPE TIME!_

_It might be a bit short… _

**oOo**

**PEETA'S POV**

It was the new year. New everything, actually. Small things like new snow on the town changed scenery. Big things like… Where do I start? Katniss has been getting big. I mean _big_. It was almost exactly a month until she was due and everything she did was entertaining. Watching her walk, watching her lay down, watching her get back up from laying down. Her stomach stuck out—I swear to God—two feet. She swore it weighed fifty pounds.

Though I didn't want to admit it, I was going to leave soon. There wasn't a set date, but I knew Katniss was thinking of this month. I tried convincing her to get rid of me _after_ Forest was born, but she wouldn't cave in. "Too much of a risk sneaking around with a newborn child," she keeps saying. It wasn't fair, but fairness had to be compromised for freedom, so I'd have to do without. The thought of living for _years_ without even knowing what my son looks like sounded…unappealing, to put it lightly.

January third, early in the morning, I rose out of an uneasy sleep. I'd expected Katniss to be laying beside me—something I had gotten used to about twice a week—but she wasn't. Letting out a sleep-ridden sigh, I opened my eyes and rolled my head over to stare up at the ceiling.

Through my peripheral vision I could see a lock of black hair, unmoving.

"Katniss?" Surprised, I sat up. All of my fatigue vanished within seconds after seeing her face.

She was just sitting there next to me on my bed, completely motionless, her legs were stretched out in front of her and her hands were folded simply on the massive bulge of her stomach. Bits of her hair—which she'd worn down—fall in front of her blank look. It was not necessarily a _bad_ look; it was just so contemplative and vacant I knew that there was something weighing on her mind. Something serious.

Even when I said her name, Katniss didn't look at me, so I repeated it.

Slowly, her beautiful silver eyes turned to me and a crease appeared on her forehead.

"Good morning." Katniss' tone was calm and neutral, almost as if nothing was bothering her. She smiled. "How did you sleep?"

With a cautious eyebrow cocked, I answered as I usually did. "Fine. How about you?"

She shifted herself next to me inelegantly and—leaning her head on my shoulder—patted a hand on her stomach. "It's getting more difficult to get an entire nights' sleep, but not too horrible minus the nightmares."

"I'm sorry." Though I smiled and acted as unruffled as she did, my head was still working. What had Katniss been thinking about while I slept? Part of me knew what she was thinking. The other part was in denial.

Katniss, frowning heavily, looked down at her hands. "…I was thinking…that maybe soon—"

"—I could go," I said with a hint of bitterness. "I know." This was the moment I'd been dreading ever since I'd caved in to her pleading. Maybe there was still time to convince her against it. Maybe she would change her mind.

"Don't give me that look." Katniss wrapped my arm around her own neck and pouted into my chest. "I hate it when you look at me like that. Like I'm some sort of monster for making you leave."

"I know you're not a monster. That doesn't mean I have to be happy with this arrangement."

"…It has to be soon, you know." She looked up at me. The world could be seen reflected in her irises; all the pain she'd felt, all the laughter, the love. With just a few words everything she felt about and near me surfaced in the grey.

Swallowing back pain of my own, I looked away, out the window at the blanket of fresh January snow over the town. "I know."

"I meant today, Peeta."

My heart stopped, mouth dried. Today? Is that why she'd seemed so upset when I woke up? How long had she been planning this? Had she been planning this at _all_?

"It's seven," Katniss continued, standing up with some difficulty. "We've got an hour. Is that enough, do you think?"

"Enough to do what, exactly?" I was now upset. Bunching my fists up, I stood, too, and stared at her with such upset and rage I thought I might burst. Not rage at her—rage at the world. "Enough to clear out my things?" I hissed, fighting to keep the frustrated tears out of my eyes. "Enough to come up with an excuse for Priam? _Enough to say goodbye_?"

Her lips had tightened into a line.

"Because it'll never be enough." Breathing jaggedly through my nose, I walked around the end of the bed to face her, to grip her shoulders. "No amount of time could prepare my mind for living without you."

"That isn't what I meant, Peeta," she said quietly, but the anger was not kept from her voice, either.

"Well, it's what _I_ meant." I turned away from her. "I don't know what else those words could have possible suggested, but the fact is that I'm not ready to leave you."

"There's no choice. There's no way you c—"

"I'll find a way, then." More tears stung my eyes and I did my best to force them away, but I thought of our child. I thought of feeling it under my palm, I thought of the laughter in Katniss' eyes every time I tease her about Peeta Junior. I couldn't leave that. "I'll find a way," I repeated. "There's always a way."

"Not this time." She stepped in front of me. "I'm sorry. If you think this is easy for me, it isn't. It isn't."

The words I've found my only defense with came out onto my tongue and leaked out with two tears. "I'm not leaving you."

Suddenly, Katniss wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. It tasted even saltier than normal, both of our tears mixing together.

"I'm sorry," she said, finally breaking away and looking at me again. Saltwater was free-falling down her olive-toned cheeks. "I love you."

I knew this was it. I knew I couldn't fight it any more.

I buried my face in her neck and held her again.

_Time to let go, Peeta._ _This won't be the last time you see her._

I felt her abnormally large stomach press into mine as she pressed against me. "I really do."

_Let her go_.

It started snowing outside again.

_Let her go_.

"I love you Katniss." I pulled away from her and backed up, feeling one of the bedposts digging into my back. "And I love Forest, too. Make sure you tell him that for me."

Katniss started crying even more, and covered half of her wet face with a hand. "I will, Peeta."

"Promise." I watched through blur as she began inching her trembling body nearer to the door.

"I promise." She put her hand on the doorknob. "I promise. I love you."

"…I love you, too."

And with that, letting out a choked sob, Katniss turned and ran out of the door, leaving me to sink to my knees and groan.

Time passed. I don't know how much. All I could think about was the look on Katniss' face as she ran, the last promise made to me running after. When my knees grew sore I sank onto my back and stared up at the tall ceiling, eyes completely dried out and stuck.

"The lock on your door was undone, Mr. Mellark."

Priam's sudden voice snapped through my vacant mind, but I didn't turn. "…Maybe you forgot to lock it yesterday."

"Unlikely." The frightening Capitol stepped around the edge of the bed and stared down at Peeta with his thin eyebrows arched. "But oh well. Care for some breakfast today?" he asked in his usual high-pitched voice and showed me the same black tray he carried food on every day.

"Not really."

"Something…weighing on your mind, Peeta?"

Priam only used Peeta's first name unless mocking him, which, ironically, he did often. So, as usual, Peeta did not answer and kept staring up at the ceiling from his position on the floor.

"Are you ready to leave, Peeta?"

Silence.

"Should I take that as a yes?"

Slowly, swallowing hatred and rage that had risen like bile in my throat, I stood and faced the man standing in my room.

Priam raised his eyebrows.

"…Get me out of here."

A wide, flat, terrifying grin stretched across his face, causing me to wince. "That's what I like to hear, Mr. Mellark. I'll alert Mr. Hawthorne."

Both of us froze. Me, in surprise. Priam in apprehension.

"What did you say?" I asked through a tight throat. Even though I knew Gale was behind everything, I was still shocked—and rightly so.

Cursing colorfully, the Capitol man tossed the breakfast tray onto the bed, and before I could do anything about it, the flash of a sedative needle caught my eye and I was out cold.

I woke up in the forest. It was barely nightfall, with stars peeking out of a deep purple sky. Being a cloudless night, it was several degrees less than what it would have been originally, making my entire body quake with the cold. As I stared up at the sky, I could see the massive silhouettes of trees towering above me, their wood creaking with the weight of snow on their branches. Every time a breeze rushed past, the trees would shiver as I did.

It took effort to stand up, but when I did, nothing gave away my location. I saw no houses, no ponds or any other significant landmarks to help me along. All I saw was snow, trees, and more snow. Blindly, I stumbled forwards, clutching my arms to myself. The frost bit my skin painfully. _Look on the bright side, Peeta_, I thought bitterly to myself. _At least in a few minutes you won't be able to feel anything at all._

How long had I been out here? The drugs that had been shot into my system could be felt wearing off, making my feet heavy but my mind even more alert. Had they just dumped me out here to die? All because I knew about Gale? What about Katniss? I kept stumbling forwards, trying to keep myself awake.

"Katniss…" I whispered, just to make sure I was still there. Though my lips felt frozen, her name still came from them so I said it again. It made me feel sick with guilt, leaving her like that. Tilting my head downwards against the painful winter wind, I sighed, watching the cloud of my breath swirl away. "I'm c—"

My words were abruptly cut off by something slamming into my face, sending me sprawling backwards.

I groaned, wishing I wasn't laying in deep, powdery snow in the middle of winter at night, no Katniss, no anybody. Sucking in a painful breath, I lifted my head to squint at what hit me in the face.

"…A fence," I said to myself, cocking my head with curiosity that I really didn't feel. Links of frost-crept metal wound around itself, creating a high barrier between me and the dark shapes ahead—dark shapes that were not trees.

Struggling onto my feet, I peered through the links at a cluster of familiar houses. No way… Gathering up what strength I had left, I gripped the metal of the fence and hauled myself over. The fall on the other side was painful, but the throbbing in my legs left when I saw a little light glowing orange on someone's front porch.

That someone the porch belonged to was Ms. Everdeen.

I was back home.

**oOo**

_Well, there you have it. That chapter was quite a bit shorter than I would have liked, but that only means next chapter will come sooner, and you know what next chapter is? I'm not telling you… __*****__coughBIRTHcough__*…_

_OOH OH OH! I have a song for this chapter. It's beautiful and makes me CRYYYYYYY. It's called "Dear God" by Avenged Sevenfold. It's one of their only "calm" songs, but it's…incredible. A piece of it:_

"Dear God, the only thing I ask of you

Is to hold her when I'm not around

When I'm much too far away.

We all need that person who can be true to you,

But I left her when I found her

And now I wished I stayed

Cause I'm lonely, I'm tired

I'm missing you again

Once again."

_Anyhoo, reviews are appreciated, and I'm so glad I got this out in time to say one last Happy New Year to you all! _

_Love each of you, have an excellent end-of-2011! Just remember: the world doesn't end 2012 because Catching Fire comes out 2013. ;)_


	14. Chapter 14

_Ooh, you didn't expect it that soon, did you?_

_Now, the beginning of this chapter is going to be a bit long and tedious, but I would suggest you read it, just for the information. Thanks!_

_Enjoy this chapter, mkay? I worked hard on it. You won't be disappointed!_

**oOo**

Letting Peeta go may have been the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I felt torn into a million pieces, but no matter how much my heart screamed to hold onto him longer, my head beat me down until I gave in. When I saw his face, broken and hurt, I wanted to leap into his arms, begging for his forgiveness, but I knew I would never let go if I did that. I had to run.

When I left Peeta's room, I had just a few minutes to gather myself together before going back into my room to face Elizabeth and Aprilynne. I knew I couldn't flip out and cry all over the place like I really wanted to. Technically, I'm supposed to be under the impression Peeta has been gone for months. Having a bout of unexplainable crying would make people suspicious. After all, I couldn't blame _everything_ I did on my stupid hormones. At that point in my pregnancy, freaking out too much might induce labor, which is the _last_ thing I need.

Gale had been slightly suspicious during the start of my third trimester. I was _enormous_, and when I was in my seventh month, everyone was under the impression that I was in my _fifth_. Twice a week it seemed like Gale would pressure me into seeing a doctor. Being that huge during my second trimester couldn't be healthy. Though I avoided the random checkups every time he tried pressuring me, I knew that when I had Forest next month, chaos might erupt. There was little chance of hiding the truth after that.

My life had evolved into a massive tangle of confusion. I grew around so many worries and thoughts and reservations like an old tree grows around a stone. It became part of my life, twisting me around. I can't say I liked it, so I did what I had to do to maintain normalcy; I denied. I denied everything. If I didn't, who knows what would happen? Sure, it's childish and probably not the best solution for my predicament, but it worked out. I went with the lies, I played dumb, I pretended, I dealt with what was happening the day it was happening, and when the time came to tell the truth, I would. There was no need to complicate things any more than necessary.

Living without being able to sneak over to see Peeta was…difficult, to put it lightly. At first it was hard to focus. I would break down at random times, I'd spend days drifting in and out of sleep under my covers, only eating when food was forced into my mouth. Everyone was afraid it was depression, but I thought confusion was a better word. After just a few days of that, I was able to get up and act almost exactly like I had been before. For a while, no one suspected anything. It worked out.

When the beginning of February rolled around, I was afraid. In less than a week I was due. Most likely unable to prolong it sufficiently, I just kept quiet and stayed in my room a lot, doing my best to be inert for most of the time. During that time, it was not strange for me to have painful cramps occasionally. My insides would twist and I would have to double over for a few minutes—hours if I was unlucky. Every time that happened, I was afraid it was the beginnings of labor, but it never was.

February 7th passed almost without a hitch, which made me even _more_ suspicious. Overrun with curiosity, I reluctantly allowed Gale to take me to the doctors again. After tugging on some decent clothing (I'd spent almost a week straight in a heavy nightgown that belled out over my abdomen), I let him take my arm and lead me out.

It was hard to walk, like having a many-pound backpack strapped on backwards. I had to lean slightly backwards to avoid getting out of balance, and the skin on the lower half of my torso felt so stretched out, my legs didn't like being together all that much. It must have been absolutely hilarious watching me attempt to do everyday things. I knew this because I would catch Gale laughing at me from the corner of my eyes every now and then.

"How are you holding up?" Gale asked while we were walking.

I shot him an annoyed look. "I'm fine, Gale. I'd walk a lot further than this before."

"I know that." He tried not to smile. "You just look like you're having a hard time of it."

"I'm fine," I repeated, and left it at that.

We got to the hospital a few minutes later, and I guiltily took his elbow when we got to the maternity division. No matter how many times I visit the frightening blue room, I'd never be comfortable enough to navigate it on my own.

After signing in, a nurse led us once again back to the room I was to take that day. Dr. Illina met us at the door.

His eyes twinkled, but another look shone behind them. Holding me gaze until I felt uncomfortable, he stuck out his hand and shook mine. "Well, well. It's lovely seeing you again, Miss Katniss." The doctor turned up to Gale and they shook hands, too. "Mr. Hawthorne. Taking care of her, are you?"

"The best I can." Gale offered a smile, but I knew it was half-hearted. He still hadn't forgiven himself, which was just fine with me.

"So are we just in for a checkup, or what?" Dr. Illina held open the door to the room for me.

"Just a checkup," I said in a quiet voice, knowing what he was thinking about. When I walked in, Gale walked in after me without waiting for permission.

After so many times of doing this, I began routine, trying not to feel too embarrassed—especially in front of Gale. Struggling around my giant stomach, I undid the button of the special new pants I was forced to wear when I got too big for anything else. Dr. Illina was switching on the machine when I heaved myself onto the examination table and began covering myself up with the blanket at my feet.

"So," the doctor began, still setting up the instruments. "Is there anything I should be aware of before starting the ultrasound?"

"No," I said, when at the same time Gale said, "Yes." I shot him a glare. Who is he, my _mother_?

Dr. Illina raised an eyebrow at me, and then turned politely to Gale. "Well, what's been happening?"

Knowing I wasn't about to tell, my _darling_ companion leaned forwards on his knees and rubbed his chin. "I'm not completely sure, but something odd has been happening the past couple of months."

"When you came in last month, things seemed fine." The doctor feigned confusion.

"Look at her, Doctor." Gale thrust a finger at my swollen stomach. "She's supposed to be six months in. _Six months_."

"The child is just growing, that's all." Giving his attention back to the instruments in front of him, the doctor offered no more explanation.

Not giving up, Gale stood. "She's been having horrible cramps that put her in bed for _hours_, and she's been showing signs of depression. She stays under her covers for days at a time, eats almost nothing. I don't think _that's_ normal, now is it?"

"Mr. Hawthorne," Dr. Illina looked at the other man with serious frustration, and tucked my shirt up to my chest. "Pregnancy affects women in different ways. Her hormones are adjusting to the separate body feeding off of her nutrients, and weird things happen. Depression is not unusual, and cramps are especially not unusual. I'm not concerned."

I said a silent thank you to him and vowed to never complain about the temperature of the ultrasound gel ever again.

Neither of them argued any more.

Five minutes later, I was staring at a picture of my child on the screen. Unblinking, unable to tear my eyes away. I could actually _tell_ what it is. I could see his nose, his mouth, his eyes, all four of his limbs along with the fingers and toes. At that moment, all I was thinking was, _If only Peeta could see you…_

Gale tore his eyes away from the screen to look up at Dr. Illina. " Boy or girl?"

He'd ask that every time we came.

The doctor looked at me, and I shook my head. "I want it to be a surprise."

"Sorry, Mr. Hawthorne." There was the unmistakable defiant laughter in Dr. Illina's eyes as he put away the instruments. "You're going to have to step out for the next part of the checkup, I'm afraid."

I couldn't help but groan quietly. I _hated_ this part. It makes me feel so…exposed.

Sighing to himself, Gale stood up and walked to the door, only pausing to look back at me. I could see the mistrust in his eyes, but it was gone soon and he left.

**MARCH 22****st**

It was dinnertime, and I found myself sitting once again on the counter holding a peanut butter sandwich in my hand. It had taken a lot of energy to walk all the way to the kitchen, so when I finally had the sandwich, I'd stretched out on the tops of the counters to eat, and when I was done, I stayed there and stared up at the undersides of the cabinets.

"…What are you doing here?"

I opened my eyes and glanced over at Gale standing in the doorway. "Taking a nap." I only was being a little bit sarcastic. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Gale walked over to the counter I was lounging on and gave me a peculiar look. "I was just looking for you since you weren't in your room."

"I'm allowed to walk around, Gale."

No matter how much I tried ticking him off, Gale always seemed to ignore any snide comments. Part of me wondered if it was just because of the pregnancy, because he didn't usually put up with my crap before.

"I know that." He tried a small smile. "It's just worrying, not knowing where you are. Especially this far in. I'd want to be somewhat nearby if you went into spontaneous labor. One of my worst fears is you wanting to defy me and the hospital system and just sneaking off and having the kid in some closet."

"Only cats do that." Stuffing the last bite of my sandwich in my mouth, I swung my legs off of the counter and stood up with a grunt. "And besides, I still have a month left." _On the contrary, I'm past my due date. So ha._

A raised eyebrow was all I got from Gale as he opened the kitchen door for me to leave. "I'm thinking you don't have quite that much time. I mean, look at you!"

I looked down hesitantly. "…The doctor isn't worried."

"But _I_ am. You look like you could pop any minute."

We walked out of the kitchen and dining room slowly, mostly thanks to me since my walk was more of a sluggish waddle. Though I wasn't about ready to admit it, my stomach was doing the twisting sort of pain that it had gotten me used to lately. It throbbed in the background, more annoying than absolutely painful, there but not there enough to worry a whole lot.

"When we get back to your room, I want you to _stay_ there," Gale said. "I need to finish up some paperwork in my office. It'll only take a few minutes."

To his words, I stopped, frowned, and looked up at him. "Why couldn't I be there with you?" It wasn't that I exactly _wanted_ to, but he was using his "I'm-a-secret-president-doing-secret-stuff" voice. I _hated_ that voice.

"Because it's…confidential." He glanced at me sideways. "It'll only take a few minutes."

We got to my room and I stood in my doorway, not necessarily wanting to spend any more time in there wandering around. There wasn't a whole lot to do, minus watching TV or counting the stitches on the bedcovers.

Trying not to pout, I obediently walked into my room and stood there with my back to him. The ache in my stomach was steadily getting worse, but I ignored it.

"I'll be right back." That was the last thing Gale said before he left.

Normally, I'd find Aprilynne lounging around on my bed on her stomach, ankles crossed in the air, messing with something in her hands. This time she wasn't, nor was Elizabeth. Letting out a sigh, I massaged the tender skin of my front and wobbled into the bathroom. Everything was fine until I got a few feet away from the bathroom door when I felt something warm gush between my legs.

Feeling heat rise on my face, I curse. Ever since the middle of my second trimester, my bladder seemed horribly sensitive. Everything was fine, except for sometimes when I walked, talked or breathed, I'd almost pee myself. I was inwardly thankful no one was in my room to witness this, but the second I took another step for the bathroom, it felt as though my innards, deep below my naval, twisted in place.

I let out a stunned squeak and threw out my hand to steady myself. My body seemed to collapse slightly, all my weight slumping onto the desk next to me. I could feel my arms and legs shaking and the strange feeling of a coiling snake in the pit of my abdomen.

"Damn it," I hissed, closing my eyes for a brief second until the pain receded.

Something was happening.

My head was too blurry to understand.

Keeping hold of the desk, I tensed my legs under me and tried to stand, but I felt the wetness again, and it surprised me.

"Gale," I said automatically, snapping my head around to look for him. His name was the first I called, though his face was not the first I saw. _Peeta_. But he couldn't be here with me.

Suddenly, I knew what was happening.

My legs buckled again, and I felt my heart rate leap up. "_Gale!"_

Two seconds passed, three, four. I waited for Gale to come, and between the first and the fifth second, the pain ebbed away again. I tried standing and dragged my feet towards the door. This couldn't happen in my bedroom. I couldn't do this _alone_.

When I got to my bedroom doorway, I called out again. "_GALE!" _The scream rebounded against the walls of the corridor outside my room and echoed. He had better have heard that.

By the time he got there, the pain had once again faded and I was standing up, leaning heavily on the doorframe, fighting a headache of disbelief.

"Katniss?" Gale skidded in front of me, panting, wearing a look of fear. He grabbed my shoulders. "What's wrong?"

I let out a puff of breath and looked up at him, eyes wide and brows slanted with distress. "I'm not…I'm not sure."

There was a long pause, but Gale caught on. His anxious eyes flicked down to where my hand was clutching at my oversized belly, and back up at me. "We'd better get you to the hospital."

No longer wanting to argue, I nodded and took a deep breath.

"Can you walk?"

"…Maybe." A sharp intake of breath was sucked through my teeth as I put my weight on my feet, but no pain came. It seemed to have left as soon as it had come, and I was able to walk again, despite the dampness in my trousers.

Gale offered me his arm and I took it, gripping it probably painfully with my fingernails.

Even though I was waddling as fast as I could, it still took a while to get to the hospital and get signed in, and by the time I was being laid out on a bed, I was feeling like I had been this morning: raw, fat, hungry, but not in pain. The doctors had hooked me up to several kinds of machines, but even after getting looked over by Dr. Illina, no one seemed very frantic.

"What do you mean, she's not ready?" Gale said indignantly to the nurse, crossing his arms and looking very big against the small brown aid.

"She's not fully dilated, Mr. Hawthorne." The nurse tilted her chin up and peered at him with knowledgeable black eyes. "There is still another several hours left, if not a day or so."

Gale narrowed his eyes. "_You_ weren't the one who heard her scream."

She didn't answer. After tucking a clipboard under her arm, the nurse gave us both contemplative looks and then left us to the beeping of the monitors.

"I wasn't in _that_ much pain," I told him impertinently, shifting my head on my shoulder to look at him.

The itchy gown I was put it felt like it was choking me, but at least they'd bothered to warm up the blankets before covering me with about fifteen layers. The metal link of the IV bag clinked quietly when I moved my arm, and the needle in my skin stung for a moment.

Gale dragged a chair over next to my hospital bed and sat in it heavily, supporting his elbows on his knees.

I stared at him with a somewhat blank expression on. "Really. I'm fine."

"No, Katniss." He rubbed his face with one of his palms and looked directly into my eyes. The pain was obvious. "You're not."

There was no arguing. I was physically fine—for a pregnant woman in the first stages of labor, that is—but emotionally? Mentally? Not _everything_ was fine.

I wished Peeta was there with me instead of Gale. I wished he was the one sitting by my bed, staring into my eyes, holding my hand. It was his child, after all. It had been two months and eighteen days since I'd seen him. I missed his arms around me.

"Katniss?" Gale blinked nervously at me. "Are you…" He trailed off.

One thing he'd learned to not ask was if I was okay.

I knew I was crying. I felt the cold wetness on my cheeks, sticking to my eyelashes. Fighting to keep my chin from trembling, I looked away and rolled onto my other side so I wouldn't have to look at him anymore.

When I closed my eyes against the warm, bleached bedspread, Peeta's face was there again. I wondered if he was in our house right then. Mothers'? Maybe he was out at his bakery. Not here, that's for sure.

A memory surfaced in my head and I was back in my bed in District 12. Peeta was sitting next to me, head cocked with worry, listening as I blubbered. That had been my most insecure time, but it had also been the time he'd been there the most for me. I could feel his hand curling around mine.

_Swallowing hard, I managed to pull my gaze away and put my forehead on his shoulder. "I lose you so often. In dreams, you always say you're there, and you always leave. Die, vanish, abandon me… I'm sick of being so vulnerable and __breakable__, and I hate dreaming about stuff like that. It scares me so bad, but as soon as I know it's just a dream, I feel stupid and foolish to have bothered you with my…complaining and whining." _

_He didn't move to brush aside my hair or touch my cheek or anything. His chest just rose and fell with a silent sigh. "Don't, Katniss. You don't ever have to feel that way, and I'll never leave you in real life. You know that. Even though the inconsistency is driving you mad, I'm sure over time it'll pass."_

_ I snorted, pouting against his shoulder. "I doubt it. I'm thoroughly convinced I'm going insane."_

_ To my surprise, I felt Peeta lean his face down close to mine, lips almost touching my ear. "What's not to love about an insane woman?" he whispered, and then drew his face back from mine._

_ I didn't know what to say to that. His words made me automatically melt into a pool of Katniss, but I wasn't sure exactly how to respond. Give him a list of what's not to love about an insane woman? Get up and fix breakfast? Give him a friendly punch on the shoulder and say "that's the spirit"? I didn't know. It rendered me confused and wordless. _

_ Sighing, I sat up a bit and looked at Peeta, face puckered sadly. For a minute I sat there and looked at him. He held my gaze with his own. Curiosity made me lift a hand and put it against Peeta's cheek, surprising the both of us. Peeta's brows puckered in confusion and astonishment. His skin was as smooth as ever and still remained untouched by any form of stubble. Whatever they did to him in the first Games seemed to still work, which was odd._

_ I couldn't help but rub my thumb along his jaw line. "You still don't shave, do you?" The question, which would have originally bothered me, didn't make me embarrassed or even blush._

_ His mouth twitched up into a smile. "I don't have to. I'm worried it'll never grow again. It would take out a chunk of my manliness to not be able to grow facial hair."_

_ I couldn't help but smile inadvertently as well. "You don't need to worry about your manliness," I said in a quiet voice. Automatically, my face heated and I was back to being the normal mortified Katniss who felt tiny against a world of constant embarrassments._

_ Peeta let out a laugh, and then took my face in both hands. He was grinning. "Thank you for reassuring me that, Katniss." Almost reluctantly (but not quite) he leaned his forehead against mine. "It's good to see you've got your sense of humor back."_

_ "More like my sense of perpetual humiliation," I mumbled, still red in the face._

Letting saltwater coat the sterile hospital pillows, I squeezed my eyes tighter and let the morphine drag me under.

**oOo**

_**A/N: I'm going to rudely interrupt here because I just felt like putting in an intermission. So use the bathroom if you need to. Get a snack, a drink of water, maybe a woodland creature to keep you company.**_

_**How do you like it so far? I know. You probably expected Katniss to have her kid right then and there, but nope. She needs a nap. And some time to think of Peeta. We all need some time to think of Peeta. So go ahead, take it. No rush.**_

_**I do so like intermissions. In fact, I think I'm going to go and get a drink, too. **_

**oOo**

I dreamed that night of the forest. I was still pregnant, in a long white nightgown that brushed the ground as I walked. The bottom of it was brown with mud and torn but the top was in perfect condition, floating over my abdomen like a waterfall.

It appeared to be dusk in the forest, with purple light peeking through the branches of trees that stretched high to tickle the setting sun. It smelled of pine and fresh rain and life, something that was never smelt in the cold confinement of the Capitol.

As I walked, I felt Forest move inside of me. Something other than my child, though, moved between the trees many yards ahead of me. I padded slowly closer, curiously, feeling the lichen mold to my bare feet. The mystery person shifted in the brush and I caught a flash of blond hair.

"Peeta?" I asked, but no sound came from my mouth. I walked further.

There he was, darting behind trees and bushes and vines, eyebrows furrowed and hands shaking.

"Peeta, what's wrong?" I tried following, but Forest kicked in protest, hard against the underside of my belly. After sucking in a harsh breath, I called out again. "Peeta?"

Peeta froze behind the tree he was hiding with and looked at me with a look like he had on when he first got reaped. He held my gaze for a split second and then did what I hadn't expected him to do.

He ran.

I tried to run after.

Forest struggled inside of me, sending pain wrenching inside of me. Letting out a startled howl, I dropped to my knees and took a second to gasp before looking back up. "_Peeta?_"

But he was gone.

"Peeta…" I whimpered against the ground, cheek pressed against a soft patch of moss. "Come back…"

Another flare of pain split my torso and I yelled. The world around me shook and I was forced awake.

The first thing I heard was the screams. My screams. And the agony in my dream had not been dreamt. It set my whole middle on fire, ripping and convulsing, making my back arch.

When I was unable to yell anymore I just gasped.

"Katniss, _Katniss_,"

Through my tears I could see Gale's face hovering there above me.

My whimpers quieted and I had to swallow several times to clear a path in my throat for me to breathe. The agony was getting sucked back in, shivering to a halt, leaving me panting and sweating. It was only until then I realized I'd been clenching Gale's hand in mine. Slowly, I managed to peel my nails from his flesh and draw it back into my chest.

"…Ow." I reached my free hand up to my brow and wiped the small stream of sweat that had snuck into the collar of my gown.

Gale took my hand again—I was too weak to object—and glanced over his shoulder at the nurse I hadn't seen during my fit.

She was standing near the back of the room, staring at me with a calculative expression. "Are you alright, Miss Everdeen?"

I shifted upright and groaned. "Is that a trick question?"

The nurse sighed understandingly. "I'll get the doctor. You just wait there, sweetie."

When she left, I tried avoiding Gale's gaze because I knew what he was asking with those eyes. I knew without even looking.

"Katniss."

He knew I was going to give in. Swallowing past the thickness, I turned my head to look at Gale.

"Are you okay?"

The real question he meant to ask was, _"What was the nightmare about?"_ He was no fool. He'd known me long enough to know what it looked like when I had a nightmare.

I blinked. "Yes, thank you for asking."

There was no disguising his feelings in the grey of his eyes. I saw guilt. I saw apologies and sympathy and love and… I could have been wrong, but he looked a little keen. It was no secret that he'd wanted kids. This wasn't his, though. Gale sucked in a breath. "I think it's…" He looked at our folded hands and raised his eyebrows slightly as though he were surprised, and then looked back up at me. "…I think it's happening."

"I know it's happening, idiot." I took my hand away from his. "I'm the one who has to shove this thing out of me."

Gale looked alarmed.

"Don't look so surprised." Okay, I admit I was having a little fun teasing him, but I'd had enough of being serious for a moment. "Didn't your mother teach you how babies were made?"

Gale stood up. "Maybe I should call the nurse."

"And tell her what?" I sank a little into my covers and wrapped my arms around my stomach. "That I've gone mad?"

He didn't answer.

"I'm hungry, Gale. Can you get me some breakfast?"

Scowling at the floor, Gale nodded once and left. And when he was gone, I put my mind at work. I had a few hours at best to come up with a name. Middle. I wasn't worried, though, because I already had names in mind. All I had to do was choose, but I wasn't that good at choosing…

"I know it hurts, Katniss, just wait, okay?" Dr. Illina dabbed a small towel on my forehead and gave me a comforting smile.

It was happening again, that pain that tore me in open from the inside, making my back arch. I was gritting my teeth and trying not to yell, groaning instead. Sweat rolled off of my forehead and neck, and my knuckles bones stuck out as I gripped the rails of the hospital bed.

Shudders ran up my body and it felt like my spine was cracking in half, splitting the tissue and the nerves in its way. Breaths were coming unevenly from my lungs as I tried steadying them to no avail.

Gale was standing a few feet from the bed, looking somewhat scarred, but didn't tear his eyes from my face. Besides him, there were two nurses, another woman that I didn't know why she was there, and Dr. Illina all crammed into my room. I didn't like being so crowded, but when your inside was eating itself alive, you didn't complain about much else.

"Just breathe," the doctor told me, and I let out a strangled cry.

"What do you think I'm _doing_?" I spat, chest heaving.

Dr. Illina put his hand on my shoulder. "It's alright, Katniss. You're doing just fine. It'll be over soon."

I knew that was true. The contractions didn't last too long, and even though they were painful, the break between convulsions felt better each time. I sweated and gasped and groaned my way through each one. There had been several since I'd woken up. They'd gotten closer and closer together. At first it was an hour or two. Than less than an hour. Then half an hour.

When the pain settled, I knew I had a few minutes until my next one. The sweat that coated my face and neck was gently toweled off and I was given water.

"You're doing just fine," the doctor repeated. "Not much longer, now. It'll be over soon."

Letting out tired breaths, I put my hand to my forehead and looked over at Gale through squinted eyes. He looked back and smiled a tentative little smile and came hesitantly over to me. The nurses parted to let him pass and he sat next to me. Our gazes were locked and I tried to read his expression. It was hard, but I knew he was there for me. Even though no one else was (Elizabeth and Aprilynne weren't allowed in the room), he was there.

When Gale offered me his hand over the rail of my bed, I took it and closed my eyes.

"This is going to be pretty gross," I tell him in an exhausted, slightly joking voice, peeking open an eye. "You sure you want to stay and watch?"

"I've seen birth before, Katniss." Gale smiled again, but it was more nervous than before. "I want to be here for you."

I gave a grunt of consent and closed my eyes again. "I'm still hungry. Wh—" A gurgle cut me off and I let out a cry.

The pain was coming again, quicker and more intense than any of the others. I could barely feel or see or hear anything through the blinding agony shooting from in between my legs. Even though it blurred my surroundings, I was faintly aware of Gale's hand letting me crush it with mine, of one of the nurses holding a towel to my forehead, of my legs bent and apart at the other end of the bed.

"Alright, Katniss,"

I heard Dr. Illina speaking to me and I tried to hear him over my panting.

"It's time to push again. Not too hard."

I did as I was told, but it _hurt_. I let out a strangled yell and covered my face with Gale's hand. My diaphragm struggled and clenched with the effort, and it felt like a cheese grater working on my guts. It ripped up my middle like lightning.

"A little harder, K—" The doctor was interrupted by loud squeals from the three women—the two nurses and the mystery woman.

"There's the head!" one exclaimed, jumping back almost as if surprised. Her blue eyebrows shot into her hairline.

"I can see it, I can see it!"

"It's right there, coming out!"

"We're so close!"

"Almost there!"

The girlish, excited voices blurred, and soon the only one I hear was the clear, strong voice of my doctor.

"Now, as hard as you can, Katniss. Push."

My screams must have shattered the windows, because for a second, my ears popped and I must have blacked out, because when I opened my eyes, the pain was (almost) gone and I wasn't screaming any more.

New cries had filled the room. Infantile and rough, gurgling through the fluid in its lungs.

I uncovered my face and lifted my head with what little strength I had left and stared through fuzzy vision at Dr. Illina at the end of my bed. In his arms was something slimy and red, twisting in the cold of the new world.

I couldn't help it. I threw my head back and laughed, feeling hot tears run down my face. They cut through the layer of sweat and trickled onto Gale's fingers where they were still being gripped by mine.

"Katniss?"

Wiping away some of the saltwater, I opened my eyes again to face the doctor. He swayed in front of me as my eyesight cleared, but then I could see it. In his arms, being held out to me, wailing quietly, was my child.

I let it be placed on my chest and I held him, unable to think, to speak. All I saw was the tiny bundle of life laying curled on my chest and the face that I'd been longing to see for months.

Blond hair.

Dark, dark blue eyes.

He looked like Peeta.

"Do you have a name for your new son, Katniss?" Dr. Illina asked quietly, looking at me with what seemed like pride.

Son.

I laughed again and touched my baby's face with a finger. It was soft, even with the drying crust patching his face. "Yes."

Everyone leaned in.

I tucked him under my chin and let more tears stream down my face. "Forest. Forest Rowan Mellark."

And then I tilted my head back and laughed.

Laughed so the world could hear.

**oOo**

_**Wee! Another intermission because I was totally going to have that be the end of the chapter, but then I realized I don't have enough more to make an entire chapter, so I'm just putting an intermission in and continuing it. **_

_**Do you like it so far? **_

_**Anyways, shutting up. Keep reading. **_

**oOo**

It took a little bit, but the people in my room slowly dispersed until it was just me, Forest, Gale and the strange nurse. She turned out to be some sort of aid for new mothers or something. She taught me how to hold him and how to nurse him and stayed by just in case I had any questions.

The whole ordeal made completely worn out to the point of it being difficult to keep my eyes open, but I did. I saw everything because Peeta couldn't. Of course, I was fine with that because it had been the best day of my life. The second I saw Forest's face, all the pain went away. His tiny, scrunched-up nose, his mouth shaped exactly like Peeta's, the tiny fluff of light hair on the top of his head.

I held him and didn't tear my eyes from him because I was in disbelief. _Was this really my child?_ All the time that has passed since I first wanted one…since I'd first tried to have one… If I hadn't been staring at his face I would have thought it all some hazy dream, but there he was, pink and chubby and so small, wrapped in his tiny blue blanket, clinging on to my chest.

I allowed myself to close my eyes for a moment and lay back in the hospital bed.

"You need some rest, Miss Katniss," the women's aid said gently to me, putting her hand on my arm. "Would you like me to take Forest for a little bit? It'd do good to get his vitals."

I glanced tiredly up at her. "I'm alright. I can wait."

Gale, who had stayed absolutely silent the entire time, leaned forwards a little and put one of his hands on the bed rail. "We'll take care of him."

"I want to hold him…" My words were slurred with sleepiness, but I forced myself to stay awake.

"You can still hold him." A warm, calloused hand slipped into mine. "But rest. You did good today."

Before I let myself drift to sleep, I opened one of my eyes and looked up at Gale. Perhaps it was the pain medicine they'd given me, but for some reason I felt a little nicer to him. I saw my best friend sharing blackberries with me in the woods. I saw the boy who taught me how to weave nets and catch fish in the stream. I didn't see anything in him that deserved how I treated him.

I flopped my head onto my other shoulder and sighed. "I'm sorry."

His frown was the last thing I saw before falling asleep.

I'd slept past lunch, but when I woke up, everything was peaceful and okay. Forest was sleeping on my chest, curled around his blanket. Gale was found sitting in the exact same spot he'd been in when I fell asleep, still holding my hand, staring off into space. When he noticed me awake, the first thing he said was that the nurses were going to let me go after dinner.

Dinner was mostly over, and I hadn't eaten a lot of it.

"Hey, Katniss," Gale asked me, picking sesame seeds off his bread.

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

I looked up from my uneaten pudding and furrowed my brows worriedly at him. "…I guess."

He bit his lip, hesitating, before going on. "Why did you say 'Mellark' as Forest's last name?"

"Because it's _my_ last name." I didn't feel like being offended or indignant right then, so I just sighed sadly and lifted up my left hand for inspection where it was curled around my child's sleeping body. "I lost my ring when we got caught. It was a pretty thing."

"...So you and Peeta were married?"

That had been the first time I'd heard Gale talk about something like this without hatred in his voice. It was more like a tired sort of curiosity.

I nodded, and then cast my gaze out of the window of my hospital room where a wet snow was drifting around in the chilly March air.

Forest shifted a little on my chest, opening his tiny mouth in a yawn before letting out a small, high-pitched grunt. I looked back down at him affectionately and took my hand away from Gale's to stroke down the fuzz of blond hair on my kid's head. When I looked back up at Gale, his face had twisted into some kind of agonized expression.

"I'm going to ask you something, Katniss, and I want you to be honest," Gale said shakily, trying and failing at his attempt at calmness.

Oh dear. Here it comes. I'd braced myself for the question the second I laid eyes on Forest and thought of how much he looked like Peeta. If the child truly _was_ mine and Gale's, his hair would not be the color of sunshine, that much was for sure.

Swallowing nervously, I forced myself to hold Gale's gaze. "…Okay."

"Is the kid mine or Peeta's?"

No escaping now.

Feeling hot tears bud in my eyes, I looked down at Forest and touched his cheek with the tip of my finger. If I told the truth, would that make Gale treat him any different? Treat _us_ any different? Would he hate him? Would he let us go early? I didn't know. I just didn't know.

I told the truth.

"I was…" I swallowed. "…I was a month pregnant when I got captured."

There was a stillness that followed.

I watched as Gale's face twisted up even more. I'd expected hatred—I shrank away a little, bracing for impact—but it was bitter and not quite what I'd imagined. Without warning, he stood up off the chair and just left.

Feeling the tears swell and drop from my eyelashes, I huddled under the covers and held Forest gently to me, feeling his fluttery little heartbeat, and closed my eyes again.

_What have I done?_

No. What has _Gale_ done. This is in no way my fault. I couldn't act like that. Either way, he was gone, but I knew he'd be back. Though…I had a feeling it would be with less kindness and understanding than before.

Cradling my newborn baby to my chest, I hummed us both back into a restless sleep.

**oOo**

_Okay, NOW I'm done. Yay! How was it? I was afraid the ending was too blah. It probably was. Oh well! Please review, okay? I worked so unbelievable hard, boss-typing like you wouldn't BELIEVE. I stayed up until 3 in the morning, woke up at 10, and typed until 12. If that isn't boss, I don't know what is. _

_Hehe did you guys notice how Forest was born on March 23__rd__? That's the day the movie comes out. Yeah, I went there. BOOYA. _

_So anyways, have an excellent New Years, and I love you all VERY much. _

_Hugs and kisses,_

_Lana (aka: thesoggybug)_


	15. Chapter 15

_Man, some of you guys reviewed fast! Thanks to everyone out there who read last chapter, I think you're wonderful and I couldn't have gone on without you. _

_Now, I'm worried how this next chapter or two will go. My main focus is not Forest growing up, so this chapter sums up a few years of his life. Please don't think it's too rushed; you have absolutely NO idea how hard it is. Okay, never mind, I admit it's going to be rushed. Just no being mean about it, okay? The first bit of this chapter is going to skip around a little, just to warn you all._

_Anyways, read and review pretty please!_

**oOo**

The first month was probably the hardest with Forest. With Gale being aloof and near silent, the only help I got was from Elizabeth, Aprilynne and the women's aid who came in my room regularly to check to see how things were going. I also had to get used to not getting much sleep at all. At night I woke several times to feed Forest, change his special Capitol-made disposable diapers, and to rock him back to sleep after no apparent issue.

Even though the news about Forest being Peeta's kind shook Gale, everyone else was—I'll admit it—helpful. Before the first week was over, my room had been completely rearranged. My bed was shoved up against the window, a changing table replaced my desk, a basinet stood next to the head of my bed, and a rocking chair was placed on the other side of the window-wall, giving the best view of the ocean.

I rarely put down my child. I was always rocking him or taking him on long walks around the Capitol building or reading to him in my bed. The only time he left my arms was at night where I went to bed early to try and get the maximum amount of sleep before being woken again in a few hours.

Forest grew, month after month. His hair grew longer and turned a lighter shade of blond, and his eyes lost the baby-blackness to become a soft sky blue. A few weeks before his birthday, he said his first word (which happened to be "yeah!") and never stopped talking after that. He'd babble to himself while I changed his diapers and laugh every time I'd try to sing to him.

After a while Gale stopped being such a jerk and slowly came back to us. He pretended that our little "chat" in the hospital had never happened, but I noticed that he called himself "Uncle" instead of "Father." Most of the time I was glad to have him around. He provided a male figure to look up to (even though Forest was too young for it to really have an impact) and often babysat him when I needed some quiet time without worrying.

Personally, I was thankful Forest stayed on his hands and knees until he was thirteen months old because once he started he kept going. I remembered his first steps, which I nearly missed.

Aprilynne and Elizabeth were staying over in my room (as they often had been) and I was dozing on my bed after a sleepless night. The two Avox were keeping an eye on Forest as he rolled around on the floor. They'd tickle him and he'd crawl away as fast as possible, only to stop a few feet away, sit on his bottom, and scream with delight, begging the girls to tickle him again.

I had been unconscious for a little bit before something tugged on my hair, waking me.

Letting out a small groan, I peeled open my eyes and was staring into the beautiful blue ones of Forest's. He was standing up next to my bed, arms slung over the side, grabbing at my long braid as it swung over my shoulder.

"Hey, love," I said to him sleepily, touching the tip of his nose with my finger. "Are you having fun with Auntie Elizabeth and Auntie Lynne?"

Forest let out a loud, gurgling giggle and looked back at the Avox where they sat, grinning on the floor a yard away.

"I suppose you're not letting your mama get any rest, huh?" Letting a smile creep across my face, I slid out of bed and sat on the floor next to him. It was adorable seeing Forest in his little blue overalls and striped shirt, standing on two chubby little legs to grab the edge of the bed. "I see you're standing on your own."

"Yeah!" He grinned at me and plopped clumsily into my lap, snuggling his face into the stomach of my nightgown.

I looked up at Elizabeth, still feeling the warm smile on my face. "Did he behave?"

Both Avox nodded eagerly, and then Aprilynne stood up, excited. Attracting the attention of Forest, she held out her hands to him and he let himself be picked up gently.

I watched, curious.

After setting Forest back on his feet, facing me, Aprilynne ran over to my side and knelt. Her eyes were shining with anticipation, and when I furrowed my brows at her, she turned back to Forest and held out her arms.

He hadn't tried to walk much before, so when I saw Elizabeth take his hand, I didn't think much of it. Just to please them, I knelt like Aprilynne and held my arms out for him.

"Come here, Forest," I said gently, waggling my fingers at him.

He laughed and fell back onto his backside.

Untroubled by the failure, Elizabeth picked him back onto his feet. Her eyes were as animated as her friend's.

"Come here," I repeated. "Come to me, Forest."

And using both of Elizabeth's hands for support, I watched as my child took his first step. Another step. He giggling again and knocked himself off balance, falling forwards into my arms.

Letting out a happy laugh, I swept him up. "You did it!" I praised, tickling his little tummy. "Good job!"

Strange joy filled my throat and I felt tears prickle my eyes. Another milestone passed without Peeta. Fighting off the sadness, I squeezed Forest gently, giving him three kisses on the cheek.

"Yeah!" Forest gurgled, squirming blissfully in my arms. "Yeah!"

I hugged him again, pressing my lips into his silky blond hair. "Good job," I whispered to him, feeling a little tear escape onto my eyelash. "Your father would have been proud."

As Forest grew, so did his vocabulary. It was almost exactly a week before his 3rd birthday, and he could form full sentences. I tried not to be sad, but sometimes it got the best of me. Forest was growing so fast. He could walk, run, climb things (I learned that the hard way), say complete sentences, and knew a number of people here in the Capitol. He knew all of those things but he didn't even know what his real father looked like. Though he wasn't quite to the point of the "where's my daddy?" questions, I knew it would come soon.

That week before Forest's third birthday, we were on a walk. He was unable to walk long distances on his own, but we often traveled the floors of the Capitol building together, holding hands, and I'd hoist him up onto my shoulders when he got tired.

I was planning on finding Gale to ask if he could watch my kid so I could go hunting (I'd given in to the Christmas present and had started hunting again, even with a bit of resentment). Forest was humming an out-of-tune song to himself as he dragged me forwards by the hand.

"We have to slow down, love," I said jokingly to him, ruffling his mop of lemon-colored hair. "I think you're catching air."

"Mama, we _run_!" Forest said impatiently, skipping a little on his little legs.

"No, we _walk_." I sighed a little at his enthusiasm, but couldn't help but smile.

He made me smile so much, the way he talk and did things. I noticed that when he laughed, two little creases appear on the bridge of his nose. Just like Peeta.

Never less excited, Forest did as he was told, but walked with a hop to his steps, singing a mutated version of a lullaby I sang him to sleep with every night. Even though I loved him more than anything, I needed a break sometimes. That's why I was heading over to Gale's office, where I knew he would be doing paperwork. I couldn't find Elizabeth or Aprilynne anywhere, but I trusted my old friend.

As Forest and I approached Gale's office door, I had to hush him.

"Uncle Gale is probably working, Forest. You can't sing like that when he's working." I lifted him up into my arms and kissed his forehead. "Though I like your song."

Forest grinned at me.

I felt my heart twist, but I shook it off and lifted my hand to knock on the door.

_"…her sometime. She's dangerous."_

A hushed voice was coming from inside the office and it wasn't Gale. I blinked in surprise. If he was busy I didn't want to ask him to watch Forest. I could go another day without a break. After all, I still had another (at least) eighteen years to go; I'd better get used to it.

Shifting Forest in my arms, I turned to leave, but not soon enough to catch a piece of something else said behind the door.

_"…Katniss like I do,"_ Gale's voice said with a hint of indignation.

I paused to listen.

_"She's just a girl, sh—"_

_"Just a girl?"_ said the other voice in a hiss. _"She tore the Capitol from its hinges!"_

_"That was because of Snow, General Sawyer." _

My heart thumped into my throat and I swallowed it back down. Forest, who was busy sucking on his hand, blinked at me and turned to glance behind me without much interest. He was fine for a few minutes, so I took another step towards the door to listen.

General Sawyer tutted loudly. _"Whether or not it was because of Snow, __Mister__ Hawthorne, she's not going to like your decision. Anything could happen when she finds out."_

What decision? I wondered. My heart was beating unevenly in my throat.

_"Anything like __what__?" _

A sound like something hard hitting a table followed, and then a pause.

_"…I do not know that. But you told her five years. She already hates you enough without knowing you don't plan on letting her go." _I let out a strangled squeak. _"She's—"_

_ "Listen, Sawyer—"_

_ "No, _you _listen," _General Sawyer hissed, voice getting quieter, making me have to strain to hear. _"She puts up with all of this crap with only the thought of getting to leave in five years. When she finds out, who knows what could happen."_

_ "I don't care what could happen. I love her and I'm not giving up."_

_ "That isn't 'not giving up'. It's _suicide. _You'll h—"_

I'd heard enough. Sucking in a painful breath, I turned and left as quickly as possible, fighting frightened tears.

"Mama?" Forest tilted his head at me.

I gave him a watery smile to assure him I was fine, but I wasn't.

Gale never planned on letting me go after five years.

General Sawyer was convinced I was dangerous.

Gale still loves me.

I'm stuck here.

Forever?

I let out a startled cry as something grabbed my shoulder, making me stop suddenly.

Elizabeth was standing there in a thick coat and snow-covered hat, a gloved hand on my shoulder, eyebrows furrowed with concern. Without me saying anything at all, she took Forest gently from my arms and we walked to my room.

I was on the edge of a breakdown; tears stung my eyes, my hands were shaking, I couldn't get anything passed my mind except for what I overheard.

When we got to my room, I found myself tugging on a jacket and my good boots.

"Do you mind watching Forest while I'm gone?" I asked Elizabeth while searching for a hat.

She shook her head and smiled supportively, but her eyes asked me a question.

Feeling the lump in my throat grow slightly, I looked at the floor, and then back up. "…I don't know how long I'll be gone. I'll tell you what happened after I get back, okay?" Halfway through pulling on one of my gloves, I gave Forest a little kiss on the forehead. "Be good for Auntie Elizabeth, okay, love?"

Forest nodded, not taking his hand out of his mouth.

"Bye," I choked, and left before they could see me cry.

I found myself jogging down the unused flight of stairs and outside, where I went around to the back of the Capitol building and into the woods. I found it was a wonderful place to be when you're stressed, even though it was different from the woods back home. It was mostly evergreens, dotted with the occasional aspen or birch tree. Snow covered each tree from the lowest branches all the way up to the sky, sticking the twigs together with frost.

As I jogged between trees and over fallen trees, my breath huffed out white in front of me and trailed off towards the sky like a miniature cloud. I wasn't sure where I was going, but the woods in general was a good start. There I could cry and no one would judge me, and cry I did. Onto a hill I crawled and sat at the top under the base of a towering black spruce tree, feeling the snow pack into the pockets of my trousers. I only cried for a few minutes, and when I was done, I just rested my head back on the frozen bark and stared out over the forest.

A piece of silver ocean was visible over the tops of the trees where I sat. It glittered under the frosty March sky. Spring came late here up north. It was only just barely beginning to melt in March. Last year it had even snowed at the beginning of May, so I wasn't upset when an unexpected fall of snowflakes came dancing from the sky and fell in slow motion on the world.

I caught one in my hand and looked at its shape before it melted.

How could Gale do this to me? A while ago I'd stopped being mean to him, maybe I was even pleasant. We'd talked like old friends again (though I failed forgiving him), going hunting occasionally. I even trusted him with my _kid_. Months ago I decided to stop being so stubborn and in denial, because it wouldn't get me anywhere. If I was going to be trapped here for five years I might as well not do my part in making it more of a hell.

The five years are now a fantasy. Gale was never going to let me go. He was counting on me supposedly "falling in love with him" or something like that. Who in their right mind would think something like that?

Gale wasn't in his right mind, I knew.

The only thing I was certain of at that point was that I was no longer going to be the compliant little girl I had been—if you'd call that compliant. I was going to get out of here. Now that I wasn't guaranteed an escape in a few years, I could get out any time I wanted, the sooner the better.

I would escape.

I would go back to Peeta.

Minutes lengthened and turned to hours, and before I knew it, I was watching the sun as it brushed the edge of the horizon. I always had the ability to waste time away in the woods, never tiring or growing bored as I sat for hours watching the life around me.

"I found you," said a soft voice behind me.

I folded my arms around my legs and rested my chin on one of my kneecaps. "Mm…"

Gale walked around my spruce tree and stopped in front of me. He was only wearing a thin jacket and looked freezing, as if going outside was planned on being a short trip on a whim. His face was painted with concern and guilt, but I knew that he hadn't found out that I had been listening in.

"Why are you out here?" he asked, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "It's freezing."

I shrugged, looking up at the white sky. "I like watching it snow."

Gale raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You've been out here for four hours."

I chose not to respond to that, and gathered a handful of powdery snow in one of my palms

"…Where's Forest?"

"With Elizabeth." Brushing off my hands, I stood. "They're fine."

He sighed and offered me his arm. "Come on," he said. "Let's go back in before you catch a cold."

See, this is what he did. Every time I was upset at him—for a legit reason or not—he'd kick up his game and be extra gentlemanlike and sweet. It didn't always work, like this time.

Ignoring his arm, I stuffed my hands into my pockets and began trudging back down the hill, feeling the snow already melting onto my clothing. It was cold, making me shiver, but I did my best to show no signs of discomfort as we walked back to the Capitol building in silence.

"Use your spoon, Forest. You're getting it all over yourself."

My son frowned at his utensil and smeared the applesauce across his face with the back of his sleeve.

Mealtimes were interesting with him, that's for sure. That dinner I had given him some applesauce for dessert and he'd succeeded in getting it everywhere but inside of his mouth. Sighing, I stood and went over to him to wipe his face with a napkin.

"We're done, okay?" I told him, lifting him out of his special chair. "Go thank the cook."

We had gotten to know the cook very well the past year, seeing as how the man rarely was seen out of the kitchen. He cooked for us tremendous amounts, even when we weren't very hungry. Everything he did for us was overkill, but I was getting tired of peanut butter sandwiches all the time, so we were grateful.

After cleaning up the dishes and thanking the cook again, Forest demanded to ride on my shoulders on the way back to our room.

"You're getting spoiled," I told him, remembering Ivy from back home, how she used to mooch off of the bakery employees to get sweets. "I'm not going to let you ride on my shoulders when you're twenty, you realize that?"

Up on my back he just giggled. I doubted he understood what I had told him.

The people here in the Capitol had gotten used to be my then. No one stared or whispered anymore. Barely anyone bothered paying attention to us as we walked. That's why it surprised me when a young man pushing a garbage cart caught my gaze and held it.

My stride faltered a bit, before I shrugged that off and kept walking, doing my best not to look back.

But the man followed. I glanced behind me just out of curiosity and saw he'd turned the garbage bin around and was wheeling it after me, wearing an expression of persistence. Feeling a worried crease form between my eyebrows, I slid Forest off of my shoulders and held him on one hip, just to keep a better eye on him.

Halfway to my room the strange man was still there, but closer. In fact, he was right on my tail. The feeling of pursuit was not completely unknown to me, but I certainly hated it.

"Miss Mellark,"

I froze in my tracks and wheeled around. _No_ one here called me that.

The garbage man veered to a stop next to me and shook his head slightly. "Sorry to frighten you, Miss Mellark."

He had average brown hair, a crooked dimple on his chin and a twinkle in his eye that made him seem so familiar…

"Who are…?" I began, rubbing my forehead and looking up at him, but stopped when a memory surfaced. I remembered a feeling of bitterness and revenge weighing heavily on my heart, looking for Finnick to take me man-hunting, and a flirtatious guard that helped me find him.

My heart got caught in my throat and I looked up at the mysterious man.

The man flashed me a smile—a smile that meant something a little more than just politeness. "Seems like we need to talk."

Hitching Forest a little more securely on my hip, I nodded once and tried to put on an air of casualness. One or two people turned to look curiously at me walking beside a garage man, but none seemed too worried and just kept going.

I knew of a room near the other side of the third floor where a lot of old junk was kept. Chairs missing legs and dusty mops and windows were stacked against the wall, barely lit by the window that had thick curtains drawn over it. I slipped into it discreetly, followed by the strange man, and closed the door behind us both.

I lifted Forest off of me, set him on a lopsided sofa, and turned to look at the man.

The second the outside corridor was blocked off, the stranger heaved a huge sigh of relief and collapsed onto a nearby chair, which squeaked in protest.

"I am," he said with a dramatic pause, "_so _glad I found you."

"Why were you looking?" I said, crossing my arms. Part of me was wary, uncomfortable with being alone in a room with my baby son and a strange man I just barely remember—if that was him I remembered at all.

When the man looked up at me and just flopped his head backwards in relief, I tried again.

"What's your name?"

This time, he stood up and responded, sweeping into a slight bow. "Soldier Hayden Steiner, at your service."

I blinked, cocking my head slightly. "You were in District Thirteen when I was, four years ago. That was you, wasn't it?"

Hayden grinned, proud that I remembered. "Yes, ma'am."

Of course, he was still as flirtatious as ever.

Taking a seat next to Forest on the broken sofa, I stretched out and looked up at him. "Were you a spy?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Then…" I frowned. "What are you doing here?"

He seemed to puff out his chest. Pride was seemingly pouring out of his skin. "I was sent here on a special mission issued by President Alma Coin herself." He looked down at me and my son with his bright brown eyes. "I'm here to take you home, Katniss."


	16. Chapter 16

I felt my mouth pop open.

_Home_?

It wouldn't register in my mind.

"Hold on." I choked out a single disbelieving laugh. "You're not actually…_serious, _are you?"

Hayden ducked his head. "As serious as your situation, miss."

An entire world full of possibilities blossomed in my head, so sudden and surprising it was almost painful. But there it was.

I'm going back home.

I'm seeing Mother and Prim again.

I'm seeing Peeta again.

I'm going _home_.

I abruptly scolded myself. Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Katniss. You're not home yet.

Trying to maintain a somewhat calm disposition, I stood and took a deep breath.

"So let me get this straight," I said. "District Thirteen's president sent a spy all the way up into Alaska into the very heart of the Capitol just to save me?"

"Correct."

"And…no one's suspected anything so far?"

"No, ma'am."

"And you have an escape plan, right?"

"I have a hovercraft hidden in the woods a mile and a half from here."

I sat down hard again.

As if sensing my change in attitude, Forest came over from the other side of the couch and crawled into my lap.

"Who is it, Mama?" he whispered in my ear.

When I looked up at Soldier Steiner, I realized they hadn't been introduced. Clearing my throat a little, I picked up my son and stood again in front of Hayden.

"Forest, this…this is a soldier," I tried explaining. "He's helping us." Biting my lip nervously, I then turned to Soldier Steiner. "And, uh, Mr. Steiner—"

"Please, call me Hayden."

"Okay, uh, Hayden. This is…this is Forest. My son."

A moment of silence followed, and then a smile slowly spread across the soldier's face.

"My god…" he exclaimed quietly, staring at Forest in awe. "He's Peeta's boy, isn't he?"

I laughed, but it was wet from the saltwater in my throat and eyes. "Yes, he is."

Hayden met my eye and I saw hope. "He looks exactly like him."

"I know." I was ducking my head, feeling tears of gratitude and nervousness tickle the side of my nose. "It's how I kept my sanity."

Laughing pleasantly, Soldier Steiner nodded, as if he knew exactly what I was talking about. "Yes. I _am_ sorry for it taking so long for me to get here, Miss Mellark. There was quite an argument held in Thirteen."

"It's alright," I said, and I knew it was. Not because I enjoyed my stay here, but because I'd gotten through it. I was fortunate someone came to get me at all, and the very day I found out I wasn't going to be leaving otherwise… Either it was a sick joke or a miracle, but I wanted to believe in the latter. It would be no use to be upset for him taking as long as he did. All I cared about was getting back to my family.

"There is, uh…another slight delay, too, Miss Mellark," Hayden admitted guiltily. "We're not supposed to leave until October."

October. That was roughly seven months from then.

"Is that going to be alright?"

After squeezing Forest gently in my arms, I set him back down and nodded. "Yes. Er, Sold—I mean, Hayden,"

He looked at me sympathetically.

"Thank you."

To both of our surprise, when he held out his hand for me to shake, I put my arms around him in a brief hug. Katniss Everdeen, hugging a stranger. I willed myself not to cry as Hayden slipped back outside, just because the sheer idea of it was so unbelievable and wonderful, I didn't think I would ever actually believe what was happening until I was back in District 12.

_I was going home_.

The next week was Forests' third birthday. I refused to let any fancy cook bake him a cake (again, because the offer was made every year), and just gathered treats to have in a quiet celebration in our room. No one but Elizabeth, Aprilynne, and Gale would come, and no one would bring presents. I'd raised him without any cheap, Capitol-made plastic toys or big parties or any kind of narcissistic teachings.

It was Friday that March 23rd, and I woke up to several pairs of feet jumping on the end of my bed. Letting out a small groan, I flopped over and looked up into the faces of Forest, Elizabeth and Aprilynne.

"Wake up, Mama!" Forest laughed, doing a cannonball onto my gut. When I let out a pained grunt, he just laughed harder. "It's today, Mama, today!"

"What's today?" I pretended not to know and pulled my head under the covers again. "It's Friday. My sleeping-in day."

"Noo!" He tugged my covers half off of me and shook my shoulder with his tiny hands. "My birthday!"

"No, that's next year."

"Mama," Forest whined.

"Alright, alright." I sat up and curled my arms around him. "I was just joking. You stay here with Elizabeth and Aprilynne while I take a shower and get dressed."

Content with waking me, he crawled onto Elizabeth's lap and sat there to wait.

By the time I stepped out of the bathroom with damp hair and clean clothes, Gale was already there. He was on my bed like the others, but he was face-down and Forest was sitting on his back, yelling at him to get up.

I leaned against the wall next to the bathroom door and watched them for a minute. Elizabeth and Aprilynne were snickering, and when they saw me, grinned even wider. Forest saw them looking and turned around.

"Mama, Unco Gale _won't get up_," he said, squirming on Gale's back.

He said "uncle" like Ivy did, making me laugh a little. "Have you tried rolling him off the bed?"

Forest furrowed his tiny blond brows.

"Get Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Lynne to help."

Ecstatic at the new plan, Forest scrambled onto Gale's side and began trying to roll him off. As instructed, the two Avox girls helped gently, trying not to laugh. When Gale tumbled off the side with a yelp, he caught my eye and gave me an amused, exasperated look.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, crossing his arms on the bed from where his seat on the floor. He grinned at my son. "You got me."

I thought it strange sometimes. Forest looked so much like Peeta, but Gale treated him much better than I would have thought. They played and laughed like any close uncle and nephew, even though they weren't related.

Smiling a little, I went over and sat on the bed, letting Forest crawl back up into my arms. "So what should we do first, birthday boy?"

He thought for a moment and then bounced up and down. "Piggyback! Piggyback!"

"It's early in the morning, love," I told him, tweaking his nose. "I don't think anyone is up for that. How about breakfast?"

"I want a piggyback," he pouted.

"How about a piggyback to the kitchen?" I lifted him up onto my shoulders and stood. "Is that a fair compromise?"

"What's a compromise?"

I glanced up at him, sitting on my shoulders blinking innocently down at me.

As we walked out, I explained. "It's like a deal, where we both agree."

"Oh." Forest said nothing else.

Everyone was silent until we got to the dining area we usually use. I sat Forest down onto his chair boosted higher for his age, and was about to go talk to the cooks when Gale stopped me.

"I'll get it," he said, touching my shoulder to sit down.

"So," I said to Forest when I pulled up a chair next to him. "What would you like for your birthday?"

For his second birthday he wanted to ride in a hovercraft (calling it a "big birdy"), and so we got a pilot to give us a short tour around the section of Alaska we were in. Forest absolutely loved it, so I decided that fulfilling one of his requests such as that was an acceptable alternative to presents and cakes and parties.

Chewing on one of his fingers, Forest cast his eyes out the window to the gray forest, where bits of snowy slush still clung desperately to the branches of trees. The only ice left on the ocean's surface was rimming it, cracked and small, hitting the shore every time the waves did. It wasn't necessarily a gorgeous time of the year when it hit above freezing, but it wasn't bad.

"I want to come with you, Mama," Forest said finally, turning to look at me.

I folded my hands under my chin. "Come with me where, love?"

"When you leave." He pointed out the window at the woods. "Where, Mama?"

"I go into the woods." Smiling a little, I took a napkin and wiped a stray bit of food off of his chin.

"I wanna come." He gave me a toothy smile and his nose wrinkled up.

Gale came back in that moment, followed by the cook, who held bowls of porridge in his hand, topped with chunks of orange and sprinkled with powdered sugar. Like always, he outdid himself, but I didn't say anything because Forest let out a very impressed "Oooo!"

We weren't ten seconds into eating when Gale paused for a bit and leaned forwards on his elbows. "So what are you two doing today?" he asked me.

"We're goin' outside," Forest said through a mouth full of porridge.

"He wants me to take him to the woods," I frowned into my bowl, "but I don't think I want to shoot anything in front of him."

Gale nodded. "That's probably a good idea,"

We ate, and when we were done, I took Forest back to our room to get bundled up. Back when I was younger, I'd always wondered why in the world my mother would dress me up in five different coats, two scarves, and six other layers of clothing under that. Now I completely understood. Maybe I was just a growing hypochondriac, but the very idea of him catching something as benign as a cold was frightening. When he got chicken pox last year it felt like the end of the world for me.

I took every precaution in bundling him up, even though it was hovering around freezing instead of staying in the two-week solid period when it didn't get higher than -5 degrees Fahrenheit.

"I'm too hot," Forest complained behind a muffling striped scarf.

"We'll be outside in a minute, love," I told him, laughing. When he looked up at me with his giant blue eyes and held out his arms, I picked him up and kissed his cheek. "You still want to go, right?"

He nodded.

"Well, then let's go." I gave him another kiss and hauled him over my shoulders.

When we got to the edge of the forest, I had to set him down. He was staring intently into the shadows cast by the evergreens, almost as if contemplating something only he could see. No three-year-old should have a face that serious. It made me sad, like he was growing another ten years in just five minutes.

To make myself feel better, I reached down and pulled him back up into my arms, reassuring myself that he was still young enough to hold.

Forest laughed and squirmed in my arms to get down. "Come _on_, Mama!"

That's better, I thought, and took his hand to lead him a little further in. The bears would be hibernating, thank goodness, so what I was looking out for was wolves and mother moose. Neither liked humans too much, so the small knife that I'd stuck in my waistband was purely for precaution. Though I didn't like having to carry a weapon with him around, I'd rather it be that than have him eaten by wolves (even if a tiny knife was no match).

As we got a little further in, Forest got quieter. He looked around, constantly moving his head and eyes to soak in everything.

I remembered the first time I went into the forest with my father. It was wonderful and frightening at the same time. I wondered if my son was feeling how I had felt.

"Can you see why I named you after this place?" I asked Forest quietly, reaching up to touch a frosty branch of a spruce tree with the tips of my fingers.

He glanced up with me and shook his head, making me grin.

"…I was a little older than you the first time I went into the woods. I could feel something in it." I didn't know why I was telling this to a three-year-old, who probably had no idea what I was talking about. It felt good, though, to know at least a part of me and my father could be part of him, too, even if he's too young to have it soak in completely. "The forest has been a huge part of my life. When I named you, I thought of everything I loved about being out under the trees and put all that love into you."

He blinked at me, and then turned back to face ahead and walked a little further, studying the dirt that animals made around the roots of trees, and the pine needles littering the ground.

"Stop for a minute, love," I told him, picking him up gently and setting him on the trunk of a fallen tree. "What do you see?"

He looked all around for a few minutes, and then looked back at me. "Trees. And snow."

"Look up."

Forest did as I said.

"What shapes do the branches make with the sun?"

After staying silent for a minute, he smiled curiously and looked back at me. "Like fingers." He held up his hands to show me what he meant, but they were covered in mittens.

I let out a laugh and adjusted his scarf. "See? The forest is different to everyone. You just have to look at it the right way." I helped him back off of the trunk. "I just wish you could see the woods back home. It's so much more beautiful than this."

"Home?" Forest looked at me, frowning. "We're home, Mama."

I felt my lungs tightening. Did I have to explain this to him? Biting my lip, I turned to glance out into the thick woods before sighing. "No, Forest. This isn't our real home."

He looked even more confused, and picked up a clump of snow to crush it between his two tiny hands.

"We're just…visiting," I said carefully to him, picking a couple more steps forwards with his hand in mine. "Thousands of miles away from here I have another home, where I'd go into the woods every day. It has so many different kinds of trees and leaves greener than you could imagine."

"I'm not green," Forest huffed, voice more annoyed than puzzled.

I laughed. "No, you're not, but I didn't name you because of the color. Your father and I spent so much time in the forest. We'd be much worse than dead if it wasn't for the beauty and compassion of the woods."

This was when my son halted, and then got a little fidgety. "Father?"

My heart felt like it was melting, and the bits and pieces I'd given away to my friends and family and loved ones all melting together. It throbbed unevenly and painfully, memories of Peeta so agonizing I could barely think of them. "…Yes, your father." I didn't know what else to say.

"Where is he?" It was an innocent enough question.

"…He's back at home." I quickly dried my eyes and smiled down at him, trying not to look at all sad or worried.

"Why?"

"Because he…he needed to take care of your grandmother and aunt."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not supposed to be here, Forest. I'm supposed to be taking care of them, but since I can't, your daddy is." I picked Forest gently up in my arms and kept walking further into the woods. The smell of pine and snow was cleaner and stronger here a half-mile from the Capitol, less polluted by the city.

My son reacts to the talk of his father more or less how I suspected. He was obviously at least a little confused, but his eyes and smile was lit as any excited 3-year-olds would be. Forest squirmed in my arms, and when he succeeded in getting down, he hopped in little circles around me, occasionally tripping on the slippery, frozen snow.

"Will I get to see him, Mama?" He asked, tugging on the sleeve of my coat and grinning up at me. "Will I, Mama?"

I couldn't help but reflect his enthusiasm with my own smile, even though I could feel the sadness weighing down on my heart. "Of course you will," I said, clearing my throat of the threatening tears. "And so will I."

"When?"

"Soon," I promised, and wrapped my arms around him to lift him onto one of my shoulders. "And it will be all three of us taking this walk."

"Yayy!" Forest giggled and then clutched my head with his short arms. "And we'll sleep like me and you, right, Mama?"

I imagined an amusing picture in my mind of us three back in bed in the Victor's house, and it made me laugh a little through my nose. "Right."

I didn't say anything else. With every passing second thinking about the three of us—me, Forest and Peeta—my body dried up a little more. My heart beat a little slower, my lungs contracted a little harder, even my stomach had to twist itself, trying to find a space inside of me.

_October_, I reminded myself. Just seven more months. After that, I didn't know what would happen. If promises were kept, I would go back home. What would I say to my mother? To Prim? How could I go on, knowing what happened and what I'd done? The guilt would ride me until I sink to my knees. Until then, I'd just have to find strength to stand in things I hadn't been a part of in years.

Forest and I didn't stay too much longer outside. We only went maybe a half of a mile in when he got cold and we lugged back, him on my shoulders and no feeling in my toes or fingertips or ears. After our little chat, Forest wouldn't stop babbling on about his daddy, asking question after question until I felt like I was going to cry. Of course, I held it in and answered all that I could, and with every answer, he got more and more excited.

That night when I was helping him into his pajamas, Forest looked up at me.

"Mama?"

I snapped another one of the buttons. "Yes, love?"

"Do you miss Daddy?"

Taking a moment to blink at the floor, I looked back up at him and smoothed back the mop of blond hair that was hanging into his eyes. "Of course I do. Every day."

"Does he miss you?"

The stars outside glowed a brilliant white outside of the window, reflecting on the motionless ocean. Peeta'd be asleep by then, probably.

Letting out a small sigh, I stood and picked him up and set him on my bed. "I hope. But we don't have to for long."

Forest giggled and crawled under the covers, bouncing a little on the massive, fluffy pillows. "Soon, right, Mama?"

"Soon," I promised, laying down next to him. "But we can't talk about Daddy in front of Uncle Gale, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because they don't like each other. They don't get along." Wasn't that how it's always been? "Promise me you'll keep it just a secret between you and me."

"I promise, Mama."

Even though he had his own bed at the end of mine, he always slept next to me, curled into my arms where they used to be so empty. Sometimes, when my nightmares woke me up, he'd always be there patting my neck, half-asleep. I hadn't woken up screaming in quite some time, though—I'd trained myself out of that during the past few years.

"Night night, Mama…" Forest yawned, and snuggled up to my chest.

"Good night, love."

We both sank down into a sleep that came rarely for us.

And dreamt.

Dreamt of home.

**oOo**

_**INTERMISSION!**_

_**Wee. You guys said you like these, and it's so appropriate right now.**_

_**So get up, get a snack. Preferably some booze and saltine crackers. Mm.**_

_**Anyways, on to the next part of the story!**_

**oOo**

It was October, the thirteenth, and I couldn't sleep.

I'd tried everything; warm milk, jogging around the mostly-empty fourth floor, yoga. Nothing worked, and in the end, I found myself giving up and leaving Forest sound asleep in my room (with Aprilynne huddled under blankets on my floor to watch) to pace the Capitol building at 1:30 in the morning.

I folded my hands behind my back and walked, eyelids heavy but unable to stay shut. I passed the kitchen and Gale's office and Gale's room and the balcony (I didn't feel like going outside to watch the stars because it was cold. Summer had passed much faster than I'd liked, and it was freezing outside again). Few people were in the corridors at that time, and those who did were tired, dragging on, and didn't pay any attention to me.

Someone was walking on the opposite side of the hall when I passed a set of elevators, and like everyone else, I ignored them. It was easy to do that for a few seconds, but that was before I heard the rustle of a trash bag, and my head snapped up. Automatically, my mind (as it had been doing since March) tried matching it up—trash bags equal trash can, which equals someone pushing the can, which would put the possibility of Soldier Hayden Steiner coming back.

And, for the first time since March, I was right.

It was hard pretending not to be excited (a guard was standing at the elevators and I didn't want them to notice us), so I put on a tired, hopefully apologetic glance at the "garbage man" and pulled an empty wrapper from my pocket for an excuse for him to stop.

Our eyes met when I threw the wrapper in, and he whispered, so quiet I thought I might have imagined it.

"Same room. We need to talk."

Still wearing an impassive expression, I turned back and kept trudging on, eye contact the only way for Hayden to know I heard him.

Restlessness and anticipation unfurled like a wild animal in my stomach and I had to fight the urge to go sprinting back down the hallway after him.

Could this be it?

I sure hoped so. It would be awful if he was here to say, "Sorry, just kidding, I can't save you after all."

Trying to act as blasé and normal as I forced myself to walk another thirty feet before swinging back around like starting over a very long, boring pacing session. The truth was my stomach was doing flips.

It took too long trudging all the way back down the corridor to the other side of the fourth floor. My charade seemed pretty convincing to me—stumbling as if either really tired or really drunk against the door of the storage room and falling inside onto the broken sofa. I got an odd look or two, but no one came in to check on me, so I was good.

Hayden wasn't even there yet.

I tipped my head backwards and rested it on the back of the sofa, allowing myself to breathe. Though I was not tired anymore—having adrenaline being shot through me at the thought of escape—I closed my eyes and found myself drifting off by the time Soldier Steiner finally came in.

"Sorry for interrupting your nap," he said in a whisper, pulling up an ancient-looking stool in front of the couch, "but you're really going to want to hear this."

My stomach did another flip and I felt my heart beginning to beat a steady, fast rhythm in my throat as I leaned forwards.

A grin lit up Hayden's face and he puffed out his chest in pride. "It's all set. Every bit of it."

"Th-the escape?" I choked, even though I knew what he meant. I was about to go insane, fidgeting around on the couch, trying not to leap up and dance around in joy. "Are you— When?"

"Whenever you'd like, Mrs. Mellark." He pulled out a few piece of crumpled paper stuck together from his pocket and held it out to me. "It's probably dangerous carrying that around with me, but there you go."

I scanned my eyes over it. I admit, I wasn't quite sure what any of it meant, but I was the number of hovercraft issued and the costs (I made a small squeak) and a copy of the order from President Coin and some other meaningless words that did not puncture my sleep-deprived skull.

"I don't really know why I'm showing you that," Hayden confessed sheepishly, taking the packet back from me. "I just thought you might want to know that it's real. No one's playing any sort of sick joke on you."

_Sick joke… _That's just what that whole thing was, wasn't it? A sick joke to spite the girl on fire. Imprison her, humiliate her, and make her beg for mercy. There would be no begging for mercy any more.

I released a long sigh and sank a little in the sofa. "And you have some…plan? I know you said you have a hovercraft, but what about the rest? Sneaking inconspicuously into the woods? Wouldn't people notice a hovercraft floating out of the forest?"

"The Capitol isn't the only one with vanishing hovercrafts, obviously," the soldier said. "And mine has been rigged for the process of disappearance prior to liftoff, so we could only possibly be seen within the first few seconds after cranking the engine."

That still didn't answer all of my questions. I folded my arms, not unkindly, and gazed at him steadily until he continued.

Hayden seemed to roll his eyes in some kind of amusement and folded his hands in front of him, giving me a look one might give a child while trying to explain something beyond them. "Mrs. Mellark," he said slowly and clearly. "Tomorrow morning you will wake up, and you will wake your son up. A way it could work is that you act as though you…want to watch the sunset or something, and are taking breakfast outside."

I nodded.

"Maybe bundle up as if taking Forest on a picnic—bring a nice-looking basket full of food, but dress very warmly. And then just walk out." Hayden sat back, looking pleased. "Now, do you know where the clothing store is on the south side of town?"

"No."

"Do you know where the library is?"

Something came to my mind and I considered for a seconds before nodding. "Yeah, I think."

"The clothes store is across the road from the library. Just walk behind that and keep going for a half mile. There's a grove of aspen trees, very hard to miss, and I'll meet you at the edge of that to show you the rest of the way."

Something about it all seemed like some dream. It seemed too easy. My mind told my heart that it was impossible, things going that flawlessly. Then again, my heart told me it was the only chance I'd ever get and it was worth every bit of the anxiety and distrusting of the plan.

Suddenly, my body felt the effects of little sleep. Between one second and the next all of the energy drained from me and I felt as though lead weights had been slid down my throat. Fighting the heavy feeling, I pulled my eyelids back open and stood, swaying a little.

"Thank you," I said genuinely to the soldier. He had no idea what this means. Or maybe he did and that was why he was so proud at helping me.

"I'll see you bright an early tomorrow, then, Katniss?" Hayden held out his hand to shake again, but this time I took it and gripped tightly for a second. "Have a good night."

"You too." The words were barely whispered, but he saw in my eyes what I was feeling.

Face shining, Soldier Hayden Steiner gave me a grinning salute and left, pushing the garbage can back after him.

When I woke the next morning, I did what was told of me. Acting as though nothing was wrong, I gave Forest a bath in the giant sink in the bathroom, took a shower myself, and halfway through dressing my son for the cold, there was a knock on the door. Suspecting it was Elizabeth or Aprilynne, I invited them in.

It was Gale.

"You're up early," he says, walking in a few steps. "Where are you going?"

For a split-second, my throat closed up and fear made dots appear in my vision, but I forced the terror down and went back to buttoning Forest's coat. "I wanted to take a breakfast picnic up to the hill and let Forest see a sunrise. Not behind windows, you know."

Forest, of course, didn't know anything about the plans. He just grinned up at Gale and the second his coat was done up to the last button, he waddled over to him and held up his arms.

Gale, of course, picked him up and hooked him on one of his sides before looking at me with curiosity. "You'll be back by lunchtime, won't you?"

"Of course." I gave him a (hopefully) reassuring smile. "It's too chilly to stay out there for long. Do you mind gathering some stuff from the kitchen while I hunt down my own gear?"

"Of course." He set down Forest and took a step closer to the door. "Anything in particular?"

I thought for a second, and then treaded carefully with my words. "…No. Just make sure there's a lot. I…I haven't eaten since lunchtime yesterday."

"that's not healthy," Gale scolded me lightly, but his expression was amused, and he ducked out the door.

When he was gone, I started rummaging through the closet, trying to find a jacket suitable for our excursion.

Forest waddled up behind me. "Picnic, Mama?"

I glanced back and gave him a warm smile. "Of course."

I hated it. I hated lying to him. I hated how he trusted me so much—that little boy wouldn't question anything I said. I hated taking advantage of that, but I couldn't risk him giving it away.

Fighting the guilty feeling, I pulled a random coat onto my arms, and then bent down to kiss Forest on the top of his little blond head. "I think you'll enjoy it."

He just grinned up at me and walked back into the bedroom, singing to himself.

When we got ready and I took him across the floor to the kitchen, I found Gale there like I thought. There was a backpack set on the table, open and its contents spread across the wood like a murder scene. Gale was busy finding a strategic way of stuffing everything in there so it all fit.

"Hey," I said to him, while examining what all he was putting in.

He looked back at me. "Hey."

"…That's a lot of food." There was an entire loaf of bread, a jar of strawberry jam, a few pastries, a thermos of soup, and a lot of other stuff wrapped in plastic and in baggies.

"It's a special occasion," Gale said jokingly, and he pulled back the curtains of the kitchen to point out. "First snowfall of the season."

"This early?" I wrinkled my nose. Great, wet flakes were losing the battle against gravity, falling to the ground in a flurry of cold wetness.

"I don't want you two out for long," he continued, zipping up the pack which he'd succeeded in filling. "You'll catch pneumonia."

I rolled my eyes. "We're not going to catch pneumonia. I'm already sweating under all of these layers. We'll be just fine."

"Here,"

Gale motioned for me to turn around and he gently hooked the straps over my shoulders, adjusting it comfortably. While he did that, I let myself frown because there was something different in the way he handled me. I felt the carefulness in his fingers. They felt—dare I say it—tender. And hesitant.

I glanced back at him unsurely. For some reason, he looked upset. His eyebrows were furrowed over his dark, silver eyes as he stared into the distance in thought. When he noticed me looking, he forced the corners of his mouths to turn upwards halfheartedly.

Though I didn't want it to, guilt unfurled in my chest. Biting my lower lip, I shifted the bag on my back and forced myself to pat his shoulder. "We'll, uh… We'll be back. Don't worry about us."

Gale, though looking a tiny bit unconvinced, nodded. He didn't give me a chance to leave quite then, because the second I turned to pick up Forest, his hand was on my arm.

"Really, though," he said, voice taking on a frighteningly serious tone. "Do come back soon."

Not trusting my words to not betray me, I swallowed and nodded.

Gale bent down to ruffle Forest's hair (my son giggled) and then he surprised me by standing back up straight and pressing his lips to my own forehead. "Have fun."

I had to leave before he saw the single, guilty tear go down my face.

What have I done to my life?

Because I know it isn't all Gale's fault.

I understood him. I knew what he meant.

Knowing made it so much worse.

It made me not be able to hate him for all the things he's done to me.

That I've done to _myself_.

That night when he thought he got me pregnant—I was the one that got drunk and jumped him.

It wasn't his fault.

He never wanted to hurt me.

Although his means of obtaining what he wanted was twisted, I understood.

He wasn't aiming to inflict pain.

He just loves me.

A painful, crooked love, but it's still there.

How could I walk away from such a broken man?

Knowing it was my fault.

Knowing that _I_ was the one to do these terrible things.

Knowing that _I_ was the one to break his heart.

Knowing _I_ was the broken one.

The only thing that kept me trudging through the forest—backpack between shoulder blades and son clinging to my hand—was Peeta.

The memory of him.

_I'm coming, Peeta._

I wasn't sure when we stopped, but we did, and when I opened my eyes and cleared the self-loathing tears, I was staring at the ceiling of a hovercraft. Letting out a groan, I sat up and looked around, bones complaining to the movement. It was just a plain old hovercraft, but my brain automatically put two and two together.

"Are you feeling alright, Miss?"

My vision cleared more and I saw Soldier Steiner sitting across from me, offering a bottle of water. I took it gratefully and drank a bit.

"Why do I feel like I just got knocked out?" I asked, handing the bottle back.

Hayden puckered his brows with worry. "I'm not sure."

"How did I get onto this hovercraft?"

He raised an eyebrow nervously. "…Well, I found you where we were supposed to meet, I guided you to the craft, and you immediately fell onto the chairs and…and fell asleep…crying." He looked embarrassed.

When he said that, I remembered. Letting out a sigh, I rolled my head onto my other shoulder to look out of the nearest window. The earth below us was snow-capped and beautiful, a thousand different shades of white and gray and some patches of green. Above, the sky was a melted kind of purple, dark and oozing, but not menacing.

I turned back to Hayden. "What time is it?"

"Around five o'clock."

"Where's Forest?" Panic rose momentarily in my throat before I glanced on the seat next to me and saw my son sitting there with a coloring book, looking up at me as though I was insane. It was a pretty amusing look coming from a three-and-a-half-year-old.

I wrapped my arms around him protectively, wary in an unknown environment. "Sorry, love."

"Where we going, Mama?" he inquired. "A picnic?"

No, most certainly not a picnic.

I frowned at the floor for a moment before regaining composure and answering him. "Remember your birthday, Forest?"

"It's my birthday?" His mouth flew open and he was about to be really excited before I stopped him.

"No, no," I couldn't help but laugh at his disappointed expression. "Do you remember what we were talking about during your birthday? About home?"

Forest thought for a moment. "…And Daddy."

"Right." I tried not to grin too widely as the butterflies erupted in my stomach at the thought. "Well, this man right here," I motioned to Soldier Steiner, "is taking us home. Our real home."

"To see Daddy?" Forest leapt up onto his feet and hopped up and down. His face was lit an animated, blue eyes shining brighter than I'd ever seen them as he squirmed with excitement. "To see Daddy?"

Letting out a teary laugh, I scooped Forest up in my arms and lifted him into the air before setting him onto my lap. "Yes, Forest, to see Daddy."

It seemed like the little boy's "YAYY!" could be heard for miles.

_That night I dreamed. Though when I woke up, it slipped from my mind, I remembered one picture lingering a little longer than the others. _

_ "I thought you'd chosen me…" _

_Gale's voice faded away into the air like mist, leaving his face painted with blood on the backs of my eyelids._

I woke up again with a shudder and a small gasp, only to find I wasn't sitting on the hill back in District 12, the taste of blackberries in my mouth and my best friend at my side. The memory sent shivers up my spine, but I shook it off easily and left a sleeping Forest to go peek into the pilot's cockpit.

Soldier Steiner saw me and nodded his head out the window. "Take a look, Katniss."

I did, and as my eyes adjusted to the brightness of midday (we'd slept a while), I could see great metal cylinders reaching into the sky, smoke pluming from the tops like giant, ugly monsters poisoning the sky. Black houses and streaks of grey—streets—littered the space around the factory as we shot by.

"That's District 1."

I made a disgusted face, and then turned away from the window. "No wonder we started a nuclear war."

Hayden laughed, and then fidgeted with some switch on the dashboard. "It's just the nature of humanity. History repeats itself until we learn." He looked up at me. "We haven't yet, it seems."

"No…" I sighed, and after a long pause, sat in the small chair next to the pilot's seat. "How long will it take getting back to Twelve?"

"Let's see…" He scratched his temple. "Six thousand miles total, going two hundred miles an hour…"

He left the rest to me.

"Thirty hours." I chewed on my lips and looked back outside. "What time is it?"

Hayden just grinned and gave me a look. "We have four hours, Mrs. Mellark. There's food behind the two seats back there if you want breakfast."

"Okay. Thanks." Practically skipping back into the rear of the hovercraft, I got the food and fixed me some breakfast, but couldn't eat it due to excitement boiling up into my lungs.

Four hours, and I'd be back home.

Four hours, I get to see my mother again. Primrose. Peeta. Maybe even Annie, and Finnick, and Jace, and Caroline, and Ivy.

Trying not to cry with anticipation, I leaned over and gave my little son a kiss to his cheek. "Forest, love, it's time to wake up," I whispered, waking him gently.

He opened one eye, and then both, and then sat up next to me, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Mama?"

"Good morning, honey."

Forest crawled into my arms and rested his head on my shoulder, closing his eyes again. "G'morning, Mama. We…" His mouth opened into a little oval as he let out a yawn. "…We there yet?"

"Not quite." I curled my arms around him and folded my legs up onto the set under him. He was such a tiny, light thing. He fit perfectly against me in my arms. With his blond hair and blue eyes, he was the exact replica of his father, almost to a frightening degree. With every passing year he looked more and more like Peeta. I loved him more than anything. "We still have a few hours. Do you want breakfast?"

He'd already fallen back asleep.

Letting out a small laugh, I tucked him a little more securely against me to wait. My thumb traced absentminded circles on his upper arm where my hand was supporting him as he drooped over. What would it be like as a complete family? I wondered. Forest, no doubt, was going to be absolutely ecstatic to meet his daddy, I knew. He talked constantly about it, an honestly, I was thankful he stuck to his word when I made him promise to never talk about our real home or his father in front of Gale.

Peeta, on the other hand… I didn't know how he'd act. He's getting thrust into parenthood with a sudden violent realization. It wasn't exactly like _I_ was eased into it, but certainly more than him. I had no uncertainty that he would be the best father in the entire world, but surprises can shake people. Showing up out of the blue on his doorstep with his three-and-a-half-year-old son might jar him a bit.

I wouldn't blame him.

I'm jarred, too.

"Why don't you two take a look outside?" Hayden's voice crackled on the speakers above our heads, and I snapped my head up from the light nap I'd been in.

Forest woke, too, and looked up at me with sleepy eyes.

I picked my son up and carried him over to the nearest window. It was lower than my head so I had to duck to see out of it, but when I did, a lungful of air suddenly got sucked though my throat. The hovercraft had slowed considerably and lowered altitude a bit so where you could see the ground below us better.

Mountains stretched up from the ground, topped with crystal white snow and trees poking through the cold. Either I was making a stunningly good guess or I recognized the range, but when I whispered, "Appalachians…" Hayden turned around in his pilot seat and grinned.

"Buckle your seatbelts, ladies and gentlemen," he said into the loudspeaker in an amusing voice. "We're preparing for a landing."

Landing.

LANDING.

I nearly choked on my own tongue.

Quickly, I ushered Forest back over to his seat—I followed—and we both buckled in tightly. My heart pounded so loudly in my throat I could hardly hear it when Forest was saying my name.

"Mama," he said again, clearly annoyed, and tugged on my sleeve.

"Sorry," I shook my head and turned to him. I knew I was grinning. I couldn't help it. "Yes, Forest?"

My son gave me a look that was somewhere between excited and frustrated. "Are we there yet?"

A laugh burbled unexpectedly out of my lungs as I coughed tears away. "Yes. Yes we are."

"And we see Daddy?" He eyed me.

"Yes, we get to see Daddy."

Forest abandoned his serious look and started giggling with me. "Home, Mama, home! And Daddy!"

We were laughing like two completely lunatics (I didn't see Hayden's reaction to our fit), but our guffaws were abruptly cut off when our hovercraft gave a startling jolt that felt like a bull ramming it from the bottom.

"Sorry about the rough landing," Solder Steiner said in the speaker. "I'm not an expert at these things." He cut the engines and walked back into the rear cabin as the propellers were winding down.

As my ears adjusted, I was suddenly aware of the noise our craft had been making when the roar quieted into a high-pitched whine, and then lower and lower as it died.

"You okay?" he asked me, flipping a couple switches on the side of the hovercraft.

Letting out a choked little laugh, I nodded and stood carefully as Hayden opened the side door with a click and a grinding sound.

The blast of air was what hit me first, making me trip backwards and let out a gasp.

It smelled clean, like dirt and trees and animals and snow that had not yet fallen. It smelled slightly of smoke, from the burning coal, it smelled like the tart water running in streams around, mostly frozen. It smelled like home. Warmer than up north, but not really warm. My eyes refused to close as I was frozen there in place, staring, soaking in everything.

Home.

_Home_.

I nearly hollered hello to a rabbit racing across the frozen ground.

Without waiting for anything else, I leapt off of the hovercraft—landing four feet down—and laughed.

My laughter echoed off of these trees—_my _trees—and vibrated into the sky.

I tripped forwards and laughed some more, but was crying within seconds. Tears blurred my vision, filled my throat, causing me to cough and sputter between laughs. My knees stung where I fell onto the ground on them, and I felt a stick jab into my hand, but I didn't care.

_Home._

"Mama!" Forest ran over to me (Soldier Steiner had helped him down) and wrapped his arms around my neck. "Mama, you okay?"

Wheezing and gasping for air around the thickness in my throat, I was able to pull my son into an embrace and bury my wet face into his hair. "Yes, Forest, I'm okay. More than okay."

When I let go of him, I stood straight and looked Soldier Steiner, Hayden, in the eyes. They were strong and proud, staring unblinkingly into my face as I held out my hand to shake his.

"I wish…" I said, biting my lip. "…I wish there was some way I could repay the favor."

Hayden squeezed my hand. "It's alright, Mrs. Mellark. It was my job."

The silence following was short and awkward.

"I, um…" Soldier Steiner pursed his lips. "I know that President Coin will request a meeting, of course, and all of the mayors of the districts will be there. Obviously we can't just go on as though nothing has just happened, but we'll allow you a few days for you to reunite with your family."

"And Daddy?" Forest waddled up to the soldier in his layers of snow clothes.

Kneeling down to three-year-old height, Hayden tweaked my son's nose and grinned. "Of course your daddy. Enjoy yourself, okay?" He stood back up and pointed into the woods. "A half-mile southeast will land you at the fence. Hope you can find your way alright."

"Yes, thank you."

Part of my felt obliged to say something else to him, the man who's made my escape possible. Saved me from a horrid future in the Capitol. Saved me from the heartrending guilt I had to live with from Gale.

He's no longer part of my life.

I am no longer part of his.

I'm _free_.

But instead of puffing my chest out and giving a speech about thanks, I just nodded to him and gathered Forest in my arms.

"You know how to reach me," I said, and with a grateful duck of the head, I set off southeast in search for my family and the place I call home.


	17. Chapter 17

_I apologize ahead of time because I'm not too awesome at teary, romantic reunions. I'm keeping this brief, so thanks to EEEVVVVEEERRYYONE who's reviewed the past few chapters. You guys are so amazing and beautiful. _

_This is what you've all been waiting for! Peeta has finally gotten back from Hannah's house (aka we get to see him again). Hope I don't disappoint you! (it might be a BIT drawn-out, but I'm pretty sure none of you will mind.)_

**oOo**

With a three-year-old holding onto your arm, a half-mile was a lot longer than they used to be, especially in many layers of snow gear not meant for trekking. Though Forest asked several times for me to carry him the rest of the way, I refused up until we were just about twenty feet from the fence. In fact, I didn't even notice the fence until we were directly in front of it, almost tripping onto the wood.

Thank goodness District 13 had bothered replacing the fence with a less…electric one when rebuilding. All we had to do was walk along the perimeter for a ways and find a gate, which were placed at intervals along the entire thing. Forest hopped through first when I set him down.

I had to stand there for a minute and breathe in. _The Meadow_. It was iced up. Of course, with the knee-high pieces of grass stuck down to the ground with cold, brown and crunchy underfoot. Though it wasn't as lush and beautiful as in the summertime, it still brought joy seeing it. I hadn't stepped foot on this ground in four years. Though it was nothing special when I did (closing the gate after me), something inside of me leapt as I stared across the field.

At the edge of the Meadow I could see a dirt road nearly hidden behind a few trees, but I knew automatically where we were.

Forest, who had grabbed onto my hand with his blue-mitten one, noticed me stopping and looked up. "Mama?"

"I'm alright," I assured him, and wiped my cheeks before continuing on.

"We almost there?" he asked again three seconds after making it to the other side of the Meadow.

"Almost, Forest. Patience."

I almost began sprinting when the dirt road curved into the monstrous turn-around where the twelve Victor's Houses were nestled in a sloppy half-circle. My eyes began streaming saltwater from them and I hiccupped loudly. I was aware that my hands were shaking, so I forced them to be still by reaching down and lifting my son up into my arms.

"We're there," I whispered in his ear and gave him a tiny kiss on his cheek. "See that one in the middle?"

He tried to squirm out of my arms but didn't try to take off to the houses when he succeeded, just clung to my fingers, tugging on them.

Though my heart was beating a mile a minute at the sight of the Victor's Village, something was wrong.

I saw my mother's house right there next to Haymitch's. It was its usual clean white color, blue trim, painted wooden steps leading up to a wide wrap-around porch. A warm yellow glow was coming from behind the closed curtains and I could see the smoke rising out of the crick chimney. Decorating the door out front was a wreathe of dry braided grass, woven into lovely patterns that matched the feelings of autumn.

It was clear they tried to go on after I got captured.

Mother's house was my first stop, of course, but I couldn't help but glance sideways at Peeta's. It was dark. No windows on. No smoke from the chimney. No sign of life at all.

My excitement had changed from the urge to skip and scream to the numbing anxiety coursing through my skull, causing it to pound. I no longer felt like leaping up into the air and laughing. More like, I felt like shivering in place for a few more hours while I decided if I was imagining all of this.

Maybe I was.

Were the tears on my face imagined?

Was the ache in my chest imagined?

Has all of this been dreamt?

No, no, _no_. It couldn't have been. It won't be. The only way to make sure was to keep going on.

If I was imagining it, I'd have to wake up eventually.

"Come on, Forest," I said quietly to my son, and then led him with one hand across the crunchy ground to my mother's house.

He skipped and hopped and tugged on my hand, but soon gave up because the look on my face was not joking. He frowned heavily—I admit I passed on a trait to him; my scowl—at me and huffed.

"Mama, are you sad?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, carefully stepping around the raised bricks of the flower bed rim. "No, I'm just nervous."

"Is Daddy here?" he glanced over at Mother's house and back at me.

I let myself smile, and we paused at the bottom of the porch steps. "This is my mother's house. Your grandmother. And your aunt. You've never met either, but you'll like them, I know."

Forest scrambled up one step with difficultly, and then another, waiting for me to follow. When I did, he held out his arms to be picked up. Of course, I did, and walked the rest of the way up the porch steps with him. But I had to pause there. Do I knock? It's as good as my house as Prim's, but I—

I let out an aggravated sigh at my mental rambling.

"May I press the button, Mama?" Forest asked, turning my attention to him, in the most sugary-sweet voice he could muster, using proper grammar and everything.

I looked down at his toothy grin and melted, unable to stop from grinning back. "Of course."

Trying to keep my heart contained within the boundaries of my ribcage, I held him up to the doorbell.

The quaint tolling coming from inside pounded on the insides of my skull as if it was ten times louder than it really was. For a split second I considered dashing off of the porch and running as fast as I could as far away as I could. But why? I didn't know why I felt like feeling. Maybe it was the guilt of abandoning my family, maybe it was the nerves. Either way, I was on the verge of a completely mental breakdown.

Just as I was about to let the strangled noise gurgle from the back of my throat when the door opened.

The noise slipped out anyways.

Standing there was a girl—a woman, really.

Glistening golden hair laying almost straight to the small of her back. A slender build, a few inches taller than I, small chest, lovely oval face set in an inquisitive, mature expression. She was not wearing any white frocks or dresses or bows tied back in her hair.

I let my mouth fall open with unintentional abandon. I didn't try and close it.

Primrose stood there for another moment, seemingly deciding something while staring at me. Then her mouth fell open as well. Immediately, two tears dripped down her perfectly porcelain face.

"_Mother,"_ she called into the living room behind her, voice cracking twice, but her azure eyes did not leave me. "You'll never guess who's here."

I was still speechless as I let Forest slip gracefully down from my arms and hide behind my legs.

"Who, Primrose?"

Our mother appeared in the doorway next to her, wiping her hands on a dishtowel and sweeping her graying hair out of her face.

It took a lot shorter time for Mother to see me than my sister, because not two seconds after she laid her pale blue eyes on me. Letting out a quiet shriek, she dropped the towel to cover her mouth with both hands, shaking with what was either surprise, joy, or—most likely—both.

Between one second and the next I was being attacked with an embrace so tight and sudden I let out yet another cry, but wasted no time throwing my arms around my mother's neck and crying into her hair. She smelled of fresh soap and wood smoke.

"Katniss, _Katniss_," Mother nearly wailed between sobbed. "You're _back_. My god, you're _back_. Katniss…"

Tears flooded down my face in a never-ending river of saltwater as I choked on my own tongue, trying to speak but just coming up with gagging sounds that may or may not have been laughter. Once again folded under my mother's comforting wings, everything was suddenly alright. Everything that has happened—the past four years—sank down and disappeared. Everything was going to be okay. I was with my family again.

Still crying, I managed to pull away and take my little sister by the shoulders, holding her at arms-length to look at her.

"You're hardly little anymore," I choked out. "You're—"

Prim wrapped her arms around my neck and we both cried, hard, until the shoulders of our shirts were stained. It didn't even bother me that she was taller than I was; under the adult green blouse and trousers and the look of a 19-year-old who'd matured too fast, I could still see my sweet, tiny sister. The way her hands clung to the back of my shirt like they always did when I held her while she cried, the way she seemed to shrink against me, shivering, and tucked her head under my chin.

I only drew my arms away to cup her pretty oval face in my hands. "You've grown so much." That was an understatement.

"Look who's talking," Prim said through hiccups and more tears. "You c—"

"Mama?"

All three of us weeping girls fell silent as I automatically turned my gaze down at my son, who was hiding behind the partially-closed door. When I let him come over and clamber up into my arms, everyone fell apart.

If I'd thought Mother was crying before, it was nothing compared to the moment she recognized Forest.

Primrose clapped her hands over her mother.

"Forest, this is Grandmother Everdeen and Auntie Primrose," I said to my son. "And Mother, Prim, this is Forest Alyxander. My son."

Mother had to excuse herself because we couldn't hear over her sobs.

"I—I can't—he—" Primrose was literally speechless, gaping at the small boy I was holding with arms extended halfway subconsciously.

Forest seemed to be considering her, chewing on his fingers while blinking at the tears running down her face. When I handed him to her, neither hesitated the embrace. Forest even let out a small giggle.

"He looked just like Peeta," Prim hiccupped again, grinning ear-to-ear in joy.

Mother came back at that time, and was passed Forest. She held him out with obvious pride. "Such a handsome boy," my mother said, and though her cheeks were wet with tears and her eyes were red and puffy, the smile she wore shone brighter than anything I'd ever seen. "Well, it's obvious whose genes favored _you_." Still crying and grinning, she tickled Forest's stomach.

My son let out a little scream in laughter and clutched his grandmother's neck. "Stop it, _stop it_!" he cried, but obviously didn't mean it. "That _tickles_!"

While those two were busy playing, Primrose took my hand and we walked back into the kitchen. "I can't believe you're back, Katniss," she said in a voice of complete admiration and love. "I can't even tell you how we felt. It's…"

Prim paused, lips pursed and eyes full of pain, and she busied herself with pulling things out of the fridge.

"There was a huge uproar in all of the districts." She put a kettle of water on the stove. "Our population seemed to double in just two days, and even the President of District 13 came to talk with us. It was terrible."

Tears trickled from my little sister's eyes but she wiped them away. "We looked everywhere for you. Everyone did. A week before Peeta came back they'd given up. Told us to go home."

I said nothing while she was preparing food, leaning silently against the counter and fixing my eyes at a pot of flowers on the windowsill, half-wilted from the frosty autumn.

"Then Peeta came." Prim offered me some orange juice, but I turned it down. "He didn't talk."

"His eyes were blank and face grey; I remember seeing him like some walking corpse on our doorstep. He wouldn't look at either of us for the longest time." Mother appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding Forest (who had calmed down). "For months after his return he stayed in the guest bed next to mine, and sometimes, he'd wake up yelling, like you used to, Katniss."

My eyes began to stung and I bit my lip.

"After a while he came to accept our help. He'd actually eat, clean up his messes, even did chores around the house." My mother sighed. "He'd talk. Yes, he was back to talking. But refused to tell us what had happened. Every time we asked, he'd get _so_ angry, and lock himself in his room for days at a time. Of course, when he came back out he'd always apologize, but we could tell nothing was going right inside of him. He'd given up…"

_On me_, I'd thought.

"On himself." Primrose paused stirring the tomato soup to wipe her eyes again. "It was a terrible thing to watch, Katniss. He just didn't _care_ anymore."

"We didn't press him after a while. Though it was terrible not knowing, we let him hide it inside of himself, the reason why he came back without you…" A pause followed, which was very painful. "Peeta went back to his own house eventually, despite our objections. It would have been best if he'd stayed, because once on his own again, things went back to being terrible." Mother wrinkled her nose. "He wouldn't cook for himself. Wouldn't even bake, which surprised me. We came and made his fires so he wouldn't freeze to death, and we made him food so he wouldn't starve to death."

"Is he still…" I sniffed loudly through my nose, knowing but not caring that it was horridly unappealing. "Is he still over there? Is he…okay?"

"Oh yes, he's over there," she said, setting down Forest. "But I'm betting that he's going to be a lot better once he knows you're back."

"It's alright if you go see him now," Prim offered, though I could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn't want to let me go.

"No, I want to…I want to stay a little longer with you two." The next words burned like fire in my throat, but I forced them out. "He can wait."

"Nonsense." Mother kissed my cheek. "We're always going to be here. We're okay with you not being with us all the time as long as we know _you're_ okay." She grimaced. "Peeta's killing himself without you."

"Go on." Primrose wrapped up a few grilled cheese sandwiches and a thermos of dark red tea and put them in a small basket for me. "Take these to him, will you?"

Feeling my hands shaking a little, I accepted the basket, but set it gently on the table. "I...I can't tell you how grateful I am to both of you. For taking care of him. And each other."

"Of course, Katniss," my mother said, looking on the verge of yet another breakdown. She wiped her eyes on a small pocket handkerchief. "He's my son just as much as he is your husband."

I tried willing myself not to cry anymore, but my head let it be. There's going to be a lot more tears shed today, guaranteed, so a few more in front of my sister and mother weren't going to hurt anyone.

Prim put her arms around me and rested her forehead on my shoulder. "I'm glad you're back, Katniss," she whispered, and pulled back to look at me, eyes shining.

"I'm glad, too." I kissed the top of her blond head, and then reached over to pull our mother into the embrace. Forest was pulled up, too.

"Take care, you two." Mother kissed us both, and ruffled Forest's blond hair. "It was lovely meeting you, my handsome little grandson."

Forest let out a giggle and wrapped his small arms around her neck. "Bye-bye, Grandmamma!"

After picking the basket back up and heading onto the porch with both hands occupied (my son hanging off the other), my mother bid us farewell.

"Come back for dinner," she said. "Or lunch!"

"Alright, Mother." I laughed, taking a step backwards down the porch. "I love you!"

"I love you, too." A smile cracked across her face again. "You too, little Forest."

Primrose waggled her fingers at my son and he tried waggling his back. "Buh-bye!"

"Come on," I said to him, and hitched him onto one of my hips, and we set back down across the Victor's lawn on the way to Peeta's house.

"Where we goin' next, Mama? To Daddy?"

"Yes," I smiled at him, and got a huge grin in return. "To Daddy."

I'd rehearsed what I'd say, what would happen, every moment of my reunion with Peeta. I felt my heart crashing against my ribcage with every step that took me closer to him, and with every step, I forgot more and more of what I'd rehearsed. Right up until we were standing in front of his door, and it was all gone. Vanished.

Without waiting for my approval, Forest reached over from his place in my arms and pressed the doorbell, and we waited.

My heartbeat grew louder until I couldn't hear anything _but_ that.

The door remained shut.

When Forest reached out to press the button again, I stopped him.

"Don't be rude, love." My brows began furrowing subconsciously. "He might be asleep."

"What do we do, Mama?" my son asked, looking a little miffed that he didn't get to press the button, but more curious than annoyed. "We go back and play with Grandmamma?"

"No…" I trailed off, and then sighed. Most of the momentum I'd gathered coming up to Peeta's doorstep had left. "Let's go in. It'll be alright."

Forest said nothing to this, but willingly hopped down so I could use my other hand to open the door.

"Peeta?" I said tentatively, taking a step into his house.

It was dark. The remnants of a fire burned slow and ashy in the fireplace, giving off very little light. The air was cold with neglect and disuse. I closed my eyes and remembered how it was before; yellow light glowing from the kitchen and high above us, the warm smells of bread and sugar lifting from the kitchen, a fire crackling warm and alive in front of the couches where we'd sit, curled around each other. Now it just seemed…dead.

Forest shivered against my leg, holding onto the material of my trousers with one of his fists. But he didn't say anything.

"Come on," I whispered to him, and held his hand as I cautiously led him across the room to the stairs, only stopping to set the basket of food down on the coffee table.

It was slow, the ascent up the flight of stairs, because Forest was barely tall enough to get up them without having to get on his knees. I helped him, though, and holding his hand the entire way, we made it up to the top.

"Mama," he whispered, and pointed to the end of the hallway.

Peeta's room was back there, the room we'd shared. I remembered all of the pictures he'd painted hanging on the walls, covering almost every inch. It felt like being in with a bag of candies, so many different colors and textures, you couldn't help but feel so happy. I wondered what it looked like then. Had he taken the pictures down? Were they covered in dust and the paint chipping away?

What Forest was pointing at was the light, the only light I'd seen so far in the entire house. It was yellow and slightly dim, but casting slivers of horizontal and vertical lines on the floor from being forced out of the cracks around the door.

Feeling my entire body shaking with anticipation, I took another few steps in that direction and paused. When my son looked up at me curiously, I knelt next to him. "You wait here, okay, love?"

Forest nodded.

"Don't go near the stairs," I warned him, and gave him a kiss on either of his cheeks. "I'll be out in a minute, okay? Then you can see Daddy."

"Yes, Mama," he said like a good little boy, and then took a seat against the wall.

Though I knew he was smart enough not to hurdle himself down the stairs, I worried, but only because it's a mother's nature to worry about their children. Once I'd convinced myself that leaving him for five minutes was perfectly fine, I stood back up and faced Peeta's room door again.

_Here we go_.

I took a deep breath and forced my legs to move, to carry me over to where the slivers of light poked through behind the mahogany door. My legs were shaking, adrenaline was coursing through my body, and yet I found the strength to lift my hand and knock twice.

Nothing responded, not even a shift of movement acknowledging he knew of my presence.

Knocking didn't work, I'd gathered that much. If I already knew, then why was I hesitating opening the door? I certainly wasn't afraid of catching him doing something he shouldn't. I wasn't afraid of anything, really. Discernable, that is.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a nervous squeak, I opened the door and stepped in.

Everything was the same.

That room was the only source of life I'd seen so far in this entire house. All of the paintings were still hanging, dust-free and still just as colorful. Greens and blues and red so bright it hurt your eyes too look at for too long. Golden light poured from the bulb overhead, hitting the closed curtains and creeping into the unlit bathroom—which was open—and it was _warm_ in here. Not the kind that reminded you of fire or a mug of tea on a winter's night, but the kind of warm that could only be given out of love.

My eyes trailed up to the number of pictures sitting on top of the wardrobe and nightstand. All of them were of me, dust-free and polished just like the paintings.

And there, sitting on his bed, was Peeta.

I nearly cried.

He was thin and pale under the pair of pajamas he was wearing (that hung off of his wrists and ankles) and purple bruises were splotched across his arms like puddles after a rainstorm. His back was hunched and tired-looking as he faced away from me, but even from where I stood I could see how sickly he was. It seemed as though he hadn't bothered washing or trimming his hair in ages, seeing as how it hung almost to his shoulders in greasy strips.

Peeta did not turn when I entered.

And I was frozen.

I couldn't walk or talk or blink.

I couldn't even breathe.

_Almost four years it's been, Peeta,_ I wanted to say. _Almost four years since I've seen you_.

_You've grown_.

_Changed_.

_I can see you're broken, and it's my fault_.

_I'm sorry_.

_I hate seeing you like this. I wish you had been stronger._

_More like, I wish you'd give_ me _strength to say sorry._

_Because I am._

_Please turn around, Peeta. I need to see your face_.

My wish was granted.

Peeta glanced back at me and was forced to do a double-take, standing up so fast he stumbled and had to catch his fall with one of the bedposts.

I looked at his face, I saw into his eyes. They were the same blue they'd always been; the color of a clear summer sky just after sunrise. Though there were bags hanging from his lower eyelids and his cheekbones were prominent, he was so perfect, right then and there, that I couldn't help but grin and cover my mouth with a hand.

There was shock and disbelief painted. Peeta stood for a second, jaw unhinged, staring at me. "…Katniss?"

And suddenly, somehow, I'd ran to him. Or he ran to me, but I didn't care, because we were together again. His arms went around me and lifted me clear up into the sky. He was _everywhere_. Against me, around me, pressing me tight to him, so tight I couldn't even think. All I thought of was him.

When I came mostly to my senses, I could tell Peeta was laughing into my hair. His breath tickled my neck and I could feel every inch where his arms were on me, where they ended knotted into my shirt.

"Tell me something," Peeta said through a voice full of tears and surprise and love.

I pulled away just enough to curl my hands around either side of his face (he'd actually managed to grow stubble along the line of his jaw, and I giggled at a memory that surfaced). "Anything."

Peeta's hands loosened on my shirt and laced together on the small of my back. "Am I still asleep?"

That caught me off guard. "N-No, Peeta. You're awake. We both are."

He put his face close to mine, the tips of our noses just barely brushing. "How can you be so sure?"

"I just spent thirty hours on a hovercraft. That better not have been a dream."

"Then how come you're so calm?"

"Me? Calm?" I let out a loud, unattractive laugh. "More like in complete shock."

Peeta leaned forwards another inch, so close that if I so much as twitched we'd kiss. "Well, if I'm not sleeping, then you're going to have to prove it."

"How?"

A grin flashed across his face.

I knew what he was thinking (even though he probably just made that sort of grin knowing what he was thinking in the first place).

I couldn't help but laugh. At first it was just a giggle, but it turned into a full-blown fit. Tears began streaming from my eyes again, and I choked and sputtered and laughed. Peeta let me bury my face in his shoulder and I half-giggled-half-sobbed until I wasn't laughing anymore. Just crying.

I had Peeta again.

_Peeta!_

After 3 ½ years, I was back in his arms.

To be honest, I was surprising myself. It had gone so different than my head had told me it would.

It was almost like I'd been gone for just a few days, not over three years.

Not long enough to do anything drastic.

Not long enough to have a kid.

It took several deep breaths for me to stop the waterworks, but hiccups had begun shaking my body. Peeta just held me, rubbing one hand in between my shoulder blades, the other curled tightly around my hip.

When I finally pulled away, Peeta leaned forwards as if to kiss me, but I put two fingers on his lips.

"Peeta," I whispered. "There's someone I think you should meet."

He said nothing, just furrowed his eyebrows and kept his lips parted curiously.

I could feel my insides wriggling nervously as I backed away from him out the door. How would Forest react? How would _Peeta_ react? There was only one way to find out.

Forest was still sitting where I told him to wait, drawing shapes on the carpet with a fingernail like a good little boy when I came up to him. He saw me and stood, cocking his head to the side.

I knelt next to my son. "Forest, rememb—"

"Is Daddy in there?" Forest interrupted me in an equally quiet voice.

Trust him to get right to the point.

"Yes, but—"

Forest tried to run around me to get to the room but I stopped him.

"Daddy's kind of sick, Forest," I said, which stopped him in his tracks. "He's not feeling well, so you have to not be too rowdy around him, okay?"

Bouncing on his little legs, Forest nodded vigorously, said, "Yes, Mama," and grabbed onto my hand.

It was difficult to stop him from bounding in at full speed, but we both managed to stay relatively calm while taking a step into Peeta's room.

The first thing I saw was Peeta's face. At first it was curious, and then I could tell as the recognition hit him. His eyes widened and his mouth parted and the expression he wore was made up of disbelief and awe and maybe even a little fear.

Peeta dropped to his knees—whether on purpose or if his legs gave out from underneath him—and there was no stopping Forest from letting out a shriek of joy, tearing from my grip, and running at his father as fast as possible. His arms went around Peeta's neck, nearly knocking him back, but Peeta held his own and wrapped his own arms around the boy, burying his face in Forest's blond hair.

The tears on his face were the most beautiful things I'd ever seen in my life.

Forest took his arms back and sat on Peeta's legs, eyeing him boldly. "You don't _look_ sick. Mama said you don't feel well. Do you feel well, Daddy?"

Peeta laughed, a low, watery chuckle coming from deep in his throat. "No, I feel…I feel fine."

Slipping a tiny smile onto my face, I walked over to them and gently pulled Forest off of Peeta. He looked up at me defensively.

"Mama—"

"Hush, love." I got down on my knees in front of Peeta and slipped a few of my fingers over his comfortingly. "Peeta," I said, looking into his eyes. "This is Forest."

Forest grinned in his own little three-year-old pompous way.

"Our son."

Suddenly, something flashed across Peeta's face and he turned away from us. I frowned, but didn't get the chance to ask about anything because he stood up, said, "Excuse me," and walked into the bathroom. The door swung behind him, but just tapped the frame, not shutting all the way.

I stood up after him, and glanced down briefly. "Wait here, Forest."

"But, Mama—"

"I said _wait here_."

Leaving him pouting and stomping around the room, I cautiously pushed open the bathroom down and looked in.

Peeta was standing at the sink, hands gripping the edge of the counter, head down, his entire body trembling like a leaf.

I stepped in the rest of the way and closed the door.

He didn't look up.

Unsure what to say, I stood next to him and put my hand over his once again, where I could see his knuckled turning white from clutching the countertop.

"What's wrong, Peeta?" I brushed away the hair from his face and could see the tracks of saltwater running down his pale face.

That's why he was shaking.

When I spoke, Peeta's dripping blue eyes flicked over to me. He looked like a lost puppy in a rainstorm, shoulders hunched, eyes so big and sad, pleading for someone to pick him up and save him.

"What's wrong, Peeta?" I repeated, touching his cheek where a fresh drop of saltwater was falling down.

Peeta flinched away from my touch. "You want to know what's wrong?"

I shrank.

His eyes flashed like fire, burning with hatred—but not for me, I knew. "It's the _guilt_. The guilt that is eating me alive."

Pause.

"…Guilt?"

"Is it so selfish, Katniss," The fire was gone, and now he was just trying to keep away the sobs as he looked back into the mirror, "to have dreaded this day? To rather wallow in self-loathing for the rest of my life than have to face the guilt of leaving you pregnant and alone in the Capitol?"

Dawning slowly on me, I felt weight like a boulder settle into my stomach and I looked down at the bruises dotting Peeta's arms. I touched one. "Did you…do this to yourself?"

He didn't answer.

I forced myself to swallow past the lump in my throat. "Peeta—"

"Don't _pretend_ like I've done nothing wrong, Katniss," Peeta spat, quaking so hard that I pressed my body against his for support, despite his nonverbal objections.

I gently took one of his hands from the counter and smoothed it between two of mine, working it until he finally opened his fingers to let me lace mine with his. "You know, I don't blame you."

"Yeah, well, you should." Peeta was silent for a minute, wiping at his cheeks with the back of his free hand. "…How can I live with myself knowing I abandoned Forest before he was even born?"

"You didn't' abandon him. Or me," I said fiercely. "I kicked you out."

"I could have stayed."

"It wouldn't have worked out. You had no choice."

"Everyone has a choice."

"You know what? FINE." I blew up, throwing my hands into the air. "_Fine. _You can mope for the rest of your miserable life and find a _better_ woman who _doesn't_ put up with all of your bullcrap!"

"Really?" Peeta looked horrified, and I knew I'd won what little argument we were having.

I melted, wrapped my arms around his waist and burying my face in his shirt. He smelled like someone who hadn't showered in a week, but I found myself not caring. "No. Of course not." I tried not to cry, but little wet splotches were already forming on the collar of Peeta's shirt. "Nothing you do is ever going to make me not want you. You're going to have to try a lot harder than that."

Deflating a little, Peeta wrapped his own arms around me and rested his forehead against mine. "…I'm sorry."

"Shut up, Peeta."

Silence.

"I really am."

I pulled my face away. "Peeta Mellark, I swear to God, if you don't shut your face _right now_, I'm g—"

Peeta put his finger under my chin and kissed me.

It wasn't like any other kiss we'd shared.

It tasted like springtime and kept promises and starry nights.

It tasted like the words "I'm sorry" and "I forgive you", just barely a press of his lips to mine and lasted only a second but made up for the years without.

When the kiss ended, I felt stupefied, and it took a few seconds to clear my brain.

Peeta had both of his hands curled around my neck. "Okay. You win. For now."

"Good." It was hard not to act as though that kiss didn't just happen, but I did my best to continue with what I was going to say. "Now…Now, uh, when we step out of this room, nothing at all is going to be troubling either of us, okay?"

A smile began creeping onto his face and I nearly laughed in relief because it was so much better and more beautiful than the fiery hatred that had been burning a few seconds ago. "Yes, ma'am."

"And all three of us are going to take showers—"

"Together?" Peeta was confused.

"No, smart one, separate." I rolled my eyes. "Forest and I are in desperate need, and to be honest, so are you. But anyways, after showers we're going to do down and eat because you look like a bag of bones."

He smiled sheepishly.

"Gain some weight already."

We both grinning, and I turned to open the bathroom door again.

Forest was still sulking. When he saw us walk out, he gave me a dirty look and stomped over to Peeta, reaching up his arms to be held.

It seemed like everything was better again.

Peeta picked up our son and looked inquisitively at his scowl, which, coincidentally, he'd inherited from his mother. "What's the matter?"

Forest rubbed one of his eyes. "Mama wouldn't let me follow you."

Peeta and I exchanged raised-eyebrow glanced and here was a pause.

I took Forest from Peeta, even though there was some struggling. "Guess whose bath time it is."

"Nooo!" he complained, squirming more in my arms.

"You can use the big bathtub instead of the sink."

He stopped wiggling and let me carry him off to the bathroom.

"So, what are you planning for us today? Nothing?" Peeta picked at the crust of his bread with a chewed-on fingernail.

We were all down in the kitchen after out showers—with his long hair, Peeta looked like a half-drowned cat when he came out—and I'd warmed up the grilled cheese sandwiches Prim had made for us. Though Forest and I had a perfectly fine appetite, Peeta was just picking apart his. I refused to let him leave the table until he finished it—a trick I used on Forest and it worked surprisingly well, with Peeta not bothering to assert his male authority. While he was still working on it, I just cleaned up around the kitchen, wiping dust off counters and doing the sink-ful of dishes piled up.

"Nothing, I hope," I said, squeezing out the sponge. "I need a day of relaxing after getting home."

Forest stuck his greasy hands up in the air. "But we see Grandmamma again!"

I couldn't help but frown into my sink of dishes. "…I don't feel like explaining anything to anyone yet," I whispered. They couldn't know about it. Though I seriously doubted Gale ever sent the letter to them as he'd promised, I was hard enough trying to say how I felt about it, nevertheless what _happened_.

To avoid crying, I busied myself with more scrubbing, working so hard on one plate my finger muscles started to cramp.

The groan on a chair getting scraped across the floor came from behind me, but I didn't look up when Peeta appeared behind me.

He touched my shoulder gently. "…Katniss?"

When I just looked away to avoid him seeing me crying any more, Peeta put one of his hands discreetly under the grey, soapy water and slipped his fingers around mine, where they were holding onto the sponge. Of course, I let go and gripped his hand.

A long moment of silence followed, and when it was over, I wiped my eyes with the collar of my shirt and went back to cleaning the dishes.

"You don't have to tell anyone, you know," Peeta offered, leaning against the counter next to me.

"I kind of have to," I said stiffly. "It's a big deal, Peeta. President Coin herself is holding a giant meeting with all of the district mayors to talk with me. Or more like, try to pry information from me."

He shook his head. "You don't have to, though. They can't force you."

"I can't just go on as though nothing has happened, as much as I would like." I pounded furiously on a stubborn mark on a bowl with the scrubber and Peeta ended up having to take the sponge from me.

"Stop cleaning, Katniss. Just, take a break." He peeled my rubber gloves off and wrapped both of my hands in a dish cloth. "Relax, okay? Nothing's going to get you. You can breathe. Go upstairs and take a nap, if you want."

"I have to take care of Forest," I muttered for an excuse.

"He has two parents now." Peeta looked like saying that pleased him more than anything. "I can watch him. Go take a break."

"There is no 'taking breaks' from being a mother."

"You have to some time. You'll work yourself to death."

Feeling greatly agitated for no reason, I tried to not grit my teeth and straighten my back again. "I'm fine. I promised Mother I'd go over for dinner tonight."

"That's still in a few hours." Peeta took my hand and began tugging me toward the door. "Come on."

Pouting and dragging my feet, I fought yet another set of tears—this time out of pure stress and not knowing what else to do—as I was led upstairs (Peeta had picked Forest up in one arm and held to me with the other) to his room.

I didn't even complain when he laid me down on his bed and tucked all of the covers around me. I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent in the pillows my face was pressed up again. It smelled so sweet, of good memories I couldn't help but float in like a cloud. On one side of me, Forest curled himself in my arms, and on the other Peeta sat, letting my head rest on his leg.

"Go to sleep, love."

"Sleep, Mama," Forest instructed me, copying what Peeta said.

Tightening my arms around my son and letting out an exhausted sigh, I looked up at Peeta. "Thank you."

He leaned down to kiss me gently on the forehead. "You're trying to grow up too fast. Slow down."

"Mm… I can't. I've got a son." I close my eyes again and sink further under the blankets.

"Well, so do I. Just rest, Katniss. I'll wake you in a bit."

With my family holding me up and in their arms, I drifted into a sleep more secure than I'd had in four years.

**oOo**

_PHEW. How'd you like that chapter? Was it everything you'd ever hoped for?_

_It wasn't for me. I disappointed myself. But oh well. So, the next few chapters might be a little dragged on and maybe even BORING (heaven forbid), but only because it's just relaxing with Peeta, which I'm sure no one'll mind. _

_But it isn't the end! There's more to come! More awesomeness!_


	18. Chapter 18

_THANK YOU for everyone who reviewed last two chapters! It made me so unbelievably happy. I'd respond to all the reviews if the respond links to the reviews weren't blocked. That's alright, though, because it's the thought that counts. And I'm thinking A LOT about how much I love y'all. _

_Okay, I'm really afraid of making Peeta OOC, but I'll do my best! Don't be upset if it's rough; it isn't as easy as it looks._

_P.S: This chapter is going to be WAAYYYY long. The longest chapter I've ever written. Ever. So bear with me, okay? Just remember, there's Peeta! Just for you I'll include a lot of fluff. Fluff and innuendos. JUST FOR YOU. Remember that._

_P.P.S: This chapter is also dedicated to the beautiful Katannamionestorm because she fixed my interwebs.  
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_READ!_

**oOo**

It felt off walking up to my mother's house like we were: my hand tucked around the crook of Peeta's elbow, Forest sitting high on his daddy's shoulders. For a moment we felt like an actual family—one that hadn't been forced apart for years.

Though it was probably unnecessary, we rang the doorbell and waited until Primrose came to the door. When she was us, she let out a squeal and practically attacked the three of us with hugs. Peeta especially, I noticed, but said nothing as we were ushered back inside.

Prim, who had changed into an autumn-gold frock (and looked a lot more like herself), seemed just as completely ecstatic as she had that morning, though with less tears. She'd taken both mine and Peeta's hands and basically dragged us into the living room.

"Mother! They're here!" Prim called into the kitchen, and turned back to us, beaming. "We didn't think you were… But you are, and we've been cooking, and-and _Peeta_." She widened her eyes at Peeta as if she didn't notice him, but then went back to glowing, eyes wet, and giggled into her hand. "I'm sorry. I'll be right back."

I couldn't help but smile, too, but as soon as my sister vanished into the kitchen and I glanced over at Peeta, it slipped from my face. He was shamefaced, hanging his head and biting his lip. When our eyes met and I mouthed, "Are you okay?" he just made an odd face and shrugged. It worried me, but I didn't do anything about it.

Forest didn't wait for Primrose to come back to hop off of Peeta's shoulders and walk into the kitchen, following the appetizing scents of dinner.

From inside the kitchen I could hear my mother give a squeal and both her and Forest's laughter as he made his presence noticed. Not ten seconds later, Mother came bursting out of the kitchen and automatically wrapped me in a strangling hug.

"I was afraid you weren't going to come back," she laughed, and then let go of me. "But here you are."

When she saw Peeta standing with me she obviously tried to hold in some sort of crazy coughing noise. Without much warning, she pulled him into an equally-strangling hug and kissed both of his cheeks. "It's lovely having you back, Peeta. Now come have some dinner; you came just in time."

It was obvious she was under the impression we were coming (as I had told her earlier, even though I'd considered not). Mother and Prim outdid themselves _completely_ when it came to cooking food; duck and steamed broccoli with butter and a massive bowl of mashed potatoes and some sort of amazing looking berry tart. It smelled like heaven, and I could help but letting out a small, hungry noise from my throat.

Mother noticed, and laughed as she was pulling a mitt from the rack. "You can sit down. I'll have everyone dished up in a minute."

Though Forest and Peeta obeyed (Forest had to sit on several reference books to reach the height of the table) I stayed standing and went over to my mother.

"It smells and looks amazing," I told her honestly. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Of course not!" Mother shooed me away with a loving look and a part on the cheek. "You just make yourself comfortable."

I obeyed her and sat down next to Peeta. While Mother and Primrose were busy with getting the last of everything set up, I glanced over at him and snuck my hand into his under the table.

"You okay?" I asked him quietly.

Peeta just wrinkled his nose again. "…No. But I will be."

"…Is there anything I can do to help?"

He squeezed my hand once. "You _are_ the help. Don't worry about me."

"I always do." Feeling sympathy and devotion twirl together in my gut, I stretched onto the edge of my seat towards him and kissed his cheek.

That automatically made him better, I saw (and enjoyed); a tiny bit of pink appeared in his cheeks and the crease was gone from in between his eyebrows and he was no longer biting his lip but smiling. Still smiling lightly at me, he touched his cheek and mouthed "thank you".

I felt proud.

Mother, who'd finished whatever she was working on, came and swooped down on us with plates piled high of her amazing cooking. Since Prim was then sitting down with us, too, the food was set in front of each of us and glasses of milk poured. Prim got up and tied a cloth around Forest's neck, but he immediately began soiling it with the milk dribbling down his chin.

The second my mother sat down I reached over and gripped her fingers briefly.

"Thank you, Mother," I told her, putting as much heart into it as possible. "You too, Prim. This is really amazing."

"Don't be silly," she said, but obviously was happy. "It's a huge occasion. I'm just happy you're here with us now. Little Forest," Mother gave my son a little wave and he giggled. "So handsome. Even though I don't feel old enough to be a grandmother, I'm very proud to call myself yours."

I was about to cry again.

"And Peeta," Mother ran a finger across her forehead as though she didn't quite know what to say, but had a wide smile across her face. "I'm so glad you feel better again. You _are_ feeling better, right?"

Another tiny smile appeared on Peeta's face and he lifted his glass of milk. "May I make a toast, Ms. Everdeen?"

Though we knew my mother didn't like him calling her that, she just put her own hand on her glass and nodded.

And Peeta got up. He shook his long hair out of his eyes and straightened his button-down shirt. Though he was skinny and pale, he looked strong at that moment, holding his head high and glowing with the moment.

"No matter how cheesy it sounds," he laughed, "a toast to my family. Not only my mother and sweet little sister," (Primrose and Mother began crying, and I think I did, too), "but to my wonderful little son who's probably going to make me age ten years in the next two weeks, but only regret not knowing him for the first three years of his life."

This felt kind of like something that would happen on TV; the way he worded it, the pride as he looked around at all of us, the simple cheesiness of it all.

"And to Katniss," Peeta looked at me from his place where he stood, and I could see a lifetime's worth of love reflected in the blue of his eyes. "I owe you forever for healing me and coming back when I most needed you."

My beautiful Peeta. Letting out a garbled laugh, I stood up and wrapped my arms around him. Who cares Mother and Prim were there watched? Who cares that Forest had already begun digging into his food, making a mess of it? I had Peeta's arms around me and mine were around him, and little hiccups were ruffling the soft feathers of his hair.

"I love you," Peeta whispered, and kissed my forehead.

Still hiccupping, I was unable to respond, and just sat back down and automatically began wiping at my eyes with a napkin.

It seemed as though we were all a total mess; the girls crying into tissues and Forest smeared with food and Peeta trying not to let the tears escape the imprisonment of his eyelids.

We ate, and it was the most delicious food I'd ever tasted in my entire life. Mother and Primrose seemed to know that I didn't want to explain anything to them quite yet, so they steered completely around that subject and stayed to lighter ones.

"So, Peeta, have you…" I swallowed, and set down my fork. "Have you gone to the bakery?"

He laced his fingers under his chin. "…No. I'm sorry. It's probably been closed for the past four years." Letting out a distressed scoff, he let his gaze drift onto the table as he picked at his fingernail. "I bet everyone's upset."

"Actually," my mother put on a peculiar face, "Those two nice bakers you'd employed earlier on stayed."

I nearly inhaled a mouthful of water, and both Peeta and I said, "What?" at the same time.

Mother smiled a tiny bit, a mischievous little smile that I'd barely ever seen on her. "They're together, you know. Make a lovely pair."

Again, we said, "What?"

"That's wonderful!" I giggled and fought the urge to put my hand on my cheek. Benjamin Erik and Anna-Mae Rull? Together? The last time I saw them, they were nothing but a pair of friends. Acquaintances, even. Anna-Mae with her tiny, delicate body and syrup-colored skin. She didn't talk much, opposed to Benj, who was from District 1 and more arrogant than Finnick. Trying to imagine them as a pair made me laugh even harder. Not because it was funny, but because it was so absolutely sweet.

"Anna-Mae is…" Mother barely ever gossiped, but she had a pink face and was using that tone of voice. She was absolutely beaming. "…She's with a child."

I'd tried taking a drink right before she said that and ended up coughing it all back out. Anna-Mae was…_pregnant?_ I was completely ecstatic.

Peeta, on the other hand, looked sick. "I feel terrible." He pressed his palm to his forehead. "They've been running the bakery for four years and haven't received any pay."

"We'll go there tomorrow," I said gently to him. "Don't beat yourself up over it."

"…I have every reason to beat myself up."

I tried not to look at the bruises on his arm, and we both knew this conversation was no longer just about paying Benj and Anna-Mae. "No," I scolded. "Don't even say that."

"Daddyyy," Forest said out of the blue, squirming on his pile of dictionaries. "I have to go potty."

Peeta didn't even glance at me as he picked up our son and carried him out of the kitchen.

The second he was gone I let out a loud groan and put my head on the table, narrowly missing a dish of gravy. I didn't even notice Prim getting up and sitting next to me.

She patted my shoulder. "It's alright. He's having a hard time of it."

"…I know." I sniffed and turned my head on the table to look at her. "I just wish I could help him. More than he already claims I am."

"I don't think there's anything any of us can do right about now." Prim sighed. "He's better than he was. I'd just give him more time."

Trying to smile, I sat straight again and gaze out at the doorway where Peeta and Forest had left. "…He really is a good father. It was…amazing this morning when we came."

With slightly dreamy faces on, both my mother and sister leaned forwards with their fingers laced under their chins.

"What happened?" Prim asked.

I shrugged slightly, standing to pick up a tray of berry tarts off of the counter. "I don't know. There was a lot of crying, stunned silence. But as soon as that was over, it was almost like I'd never left and we'd always been a family like that. He and Forest automatically bonded like you wouldn't believe."

We each took a tart and nibbled on it. Sweet fruit and the buttery crust filled my mouth. "…Their just so sweet together."

Mother sighed happily, clasping her hands and turning pink again, something I knew she only did when she was extremely happy. "You three make the most beautiful little family. Do you think you're going to have any more children?"

I couldn't help but blush. "I…I don't know. Maybe. I know Peeta wants more, but I think we need to wait until he gets used to our first before there are any more promises made."

"Until I get used to what?"

Peeta came back at that time, Forest in his arms, looking better. His face was smoothed free of that saddened look once more.

I tilted back in my chair and bit the inside of my cheek when I looked back at him. "…Forest. Mother wanted to know if we were going to have any more children."

He raised an eyebrow as he sat Forest back on his stack of reference book, but stayed silent.

"Waiting is best. Forest is enough for now." I couldn't help but smile and reached over to ruffle my son's hair. "You're a handful, aren't you? Do you want a raspberry tart?"

"Yes!" Forest bounced on his seat.

"Yes, _please_."

"Yes, please, Mama." He gave me a wide, toothy grin and stretched his chubby hands out to me as I passed a tart over to him. "Thank you."

As far as three-year-olds go, my son was the best I'd ever known. He had manners, rarely ever threw fits and obeyed me most of the time. Like all children, he had his days, but I felt overly fortunate.

While my son and Primrose giggled and messed around with the tarts (I did my best not to scream at them for playing with their food), I glanced up at Peeta inconspicuously

"…Are you alright?" I asked him quietly.

Sighing, Peeta shook his head slightly. "It's nothing you should worry about."

"You don't have to keep it inside." Some part of me felt upset at him bottling it all up because I knew what that does to a person. I wanted him to feel comfortable enough to talk to me. "You can talk to me, you know."

He shook his head again. "It's not anyone else's concern."

"We're all family."

"I'm a father now." Peeta, who had his brows furrowed, picked at his tart for a moment before continuing. "No matter what is bothering me, you can't just take sick days. Parenthood doesn't stop for anyone."

That sounded like something I'd say, but I didn't snap a reply back. The last thing we needed was to get into a fight right then, so I just stood up and cleared my throat. "We should probably be getting home. It's late."

Mother, who had put a hesitant face on, looked up at me with her pale blue eyes. "Forest can stay with us for the night," she proffered, which made both Primrose and Forest's ears prick up. "So you two can…sort things out."

"Stay?" Forest's eyes widened and he smacked his fists on the table with excitement, smearing berry juice across the wood. "Yes, Mama, stay! Please! I stay with Auntie and Grandmamma!"

I took and napkin and wiped his face and hands off. "Thank you for the offer, Mother, but it's our first night back. I think it'd be best if we spent it as a family."

Mother's cheeks turned red. "Oh. Of course. I'm sorry." Her and Prim stood up with us. "You know, he's welcome to stay any time he wants. To give you time to yourselves."

"Thank you," I said, genuinely thankful because I knew Peeta and I would need that time to ourselves. A lot, probably. After setting Forest back down from his throne, I wiped the last bit of food off of his face and looked back up. "The dinner was delicious, Mother. I can't tell you how much I needed that."

"Anytime, Katniss." My mother put her arms around me tightly and kissed my forehead. "I'm glad you're back. We're going to have to do that more often."

"Definitely." I smiled.

All five of us walked back out into the living room where our coats and hats were hung, and after bundling up, hugs and kisses were passed around. Everyone got at least four hugs, and it took ages to just get the door open.

"We'll see you tomorrow!"

All three of us waved to my mother and Prim while going down the porch steps.

"Have a good night, you three. I love you!" Mother waved frantically.

With Forest in one of my arms and my other curled around Peeta's, we went back to our own house for the night.

"You know what I realized?" I said all of a sudden while rummaging around in the wardrobe in Peeta's room. "We have no clothes for Forest. I didn't get the chance to bring any."

"Hm." Peeta, who had been a little distance ever since we got home, gazed out the window. "We'll get some tomorrow in town."

It was bothering me. Even though I was acting as casual and happy as best as I could, Peeta still seemed upset. He didn't hold my hand or kiss my cheek since dinner—which surprised me. Forest didn't notice anything and was busy brushing his teeth in the bathroom a few feet away.

I pulled one of my old nightdresses out of the wardrobe and slung it over my arm. "Peeta."

He glanced over at me with the same impassive face as I walked over next to him.

"I don't care what sort of bout of self-loathing you're having right now but your family needs you." I told him, swallowing what fright I had and keeping my eyes steadily on his. "_I _need you. And if you don't tell me why you're acting like this, I'm…not going to be very happy." That was the best comeback I could think of, but it did the trick.

Peeta looked away from me, clenching his teeth, but I could see the wetness in his eyes. "…You have no idea how terrible I feel."

"I do, actually, because I abandoned you. That crushed me, too, but I had to go on because I had to be a mother for Forest."

"Yeah, but after leaving you I left your mother and Primrose. I didn't…take care of them." He hung his head down and touched his wet cheek with the back of his wrist. "None of you deserve me. I'm so useless. To everyone."

"For God's sake, Peeta, _stop being a martyr_! It's unbecoming and stupid and…" I tried swallowing the lump in my throat, but it didn't work. "I was…I was hoping we could just…go back to normal when I got home. I don't like you being so sad. It hurts me." I gripped his arm. "Can we just forget all of the…the bad things we've done? You—_we _can't live under the shadows of our mistakes, because we'd be living forever in darkness. Move on."

He met my eyes again. "How can I when I see the beautiful faces of those I abandoned every day?"

It took a long time for me to answer.

Forest, I heard, had stopped brushing his teeth and was sitting inside the sink singing to himself in the mirror. He was alright for then, so I just took a huge, shaky breath and put my hand up on Peeta's cheek.

"Because no matter how much you're upset at yourself for leaving, we'll love you no matter what. And that's what counts when it all comes down to it." Still trying to swallow the lump, I wound my arms around Peeta's neck and held him in a strong embrace. "So can you just try to pretend everything's okay? For me?"

Peeta had his arms around me as well and he closed his eyes against my hair. "…For you. I'm sorry I'm such a pain."

"It's alright." I'd gotten into the habit of kissing his cheek every time this happened, and every time I did, it seemed as though Peeta's life got ultimately better, which made me happy.

His eyes shone.

Letting out a watery laugh, I pulled away and said nothing as I turned to go into the bathroom.

When I entered, Forest glanced up and quickly stuck his toothbrush back in his mouth. "Hey, Mama!"

Giving him a loving smile, I took the toothbrush and finished cleaning his teeth for him. "Now go be with your daddy while I change, okay?"

"Okay, Mama." He hopped down with my help and ran back into the room.

After I changed into my nightgown—which still fit after four years—I went back out to find Peeta and our son laying on the bedroom floor, laughing. Peeta was in just a pair of plaid pajama pants, exposing the slight curves of his ribs and where his chest muscles were disappearing into his skin. Though slightly emaciated, he was still a beautiful person.

"Mama, HELP!" Forest stumbled over to me and hid behind my legs from Peeta, who was pretending to be some sort of ravage wild animal. My son was out of his day clothes into a giant shirt that Peeta had put on him that went down past his feet.

I went along with my son's play and shielded him from his father. "It's alright. I'll protect you from the… what is he?"

"A dragon," Forest whispered.

I couldn't help but grin. "I'll protect you from the dragon."

Thankfully, Peeta seemed to be better (most of the way, at least). He was on his hands and knees and making this ridiculous roaring sound. "Eat little boy!"

"Mama!" Forest wailed gleefully into the material of my nightdress, covering his eyes.

Peeta pretended that Forest had disappeared. "Where did little boy go? I was going to eat him!"

Our son's giggles were muffled by my dress.

"Oh well." Peeta stood up and grinned at me, twinkling his eyes mischievously. "I'll eat this tasty young woman instead." He grabbed me by the waist and buried his face in my neck.

Both Forest and I screamed, Forest's being frightened for my make-believe life, mine out of surprise. That, and I was ticklish on my neck.

"Okay, okay," I laughed, pushing Peeta away. "You're getting all riled up before bedtime."

"Aww…" Forest pouted, crawling up into his daddy's arms to complain. "May I stay up a little longer, Daddy?"

Peeta shook his head sympathetically, still grinning. "No, I'm sorry. It's bedtime."

Our son's, "AWWW"s lasted all the way down the hall into the room next to ours.

"Shh," I told him quietly, lifting him up onto the giant bed. "It's time to calm down, okay, love? It's time to _sleep_."

Forest huffed, but obeyed and crawled under the covers I'd turned down.

After Peeta went to turn the lights out (leaving the bathroom light on for a nightlight), he came back and sat on the bed on the opposite side of me.

"We're going to go into town tomorrow," I told Forest, pulling the covers up to his chin. "You'll need your rest."

"Is this my room, Mama?" he asked.

"For now, maybe. We'll make something more permanent later, okay?"

He nodded, and then looked up at Peeta. "Goodnight, Daddy."

Peeta's face was soft as he bent to kiss his son's forehead. "Sleep tight."

When Forest looked up at me, I expected what he asked.

"Can you sing the castle son to me, Mama?"

Of course, the castle song wasn't really a song. It was a poem I'd found at the library back in the Capitol, and I'd read it to Forest when he was one years old, putting it a little rhythm to it to make it sound like a lullaby. I'd said it to him nearly every single night since then, so I had it memorized.

"_I'll tell you a story_

_Of a girl_

_Who built a castle around her heart._

_Made from bricks of red,_

_Ivies of green reaching into the sky,_

_Crawling up the edges._

_They came by the thousands every day,_

_The people,_

_Wanting into her heart._

_They clawed at the bricks,_

_Tried to climb, _

_Tried to tunnel._

_At the end of the day, they'd all go back home,_

_Determined to try again the day after._

_They all went home except for one,_

_Who sat at the wall._

_He sat and waited for many years._

_He didn't claw at the bricks,_

_He didn't try to climb,_

_He didn't try to tunnel._

_And one day,_

_He stood up,_

_Walked around to the back of the castle,_

_And opened the door."_

I doubted Forest understood the meaning of the lullaby, but it did its job. His chest rose and fell with every tiny breath he took while sleeping, and his face was as smooth and clear as a bowl of cream.

When I stood up from the bed, Peeta did as well, and he came over to stand next to me.

"That was a wonderful story," he whispered to me. "Where'd you get it?"

"The library. It's just a poem, but he has a taste for poetry I suppose." Smiling slightly, I walked out of the door, closing it behind me. "…Sweet thing. I hope he's alright sleeping on his own…"

Peeta smiled, too, and opened our bedroom door for me. "It's kind of ironic if you think about it, the poem."

I did, and it was. "You're right. Except not in the way you'd think."

"How so?" He turned down the covers and sat up in bed, only his feet under.

I sat next to him, arms wrapped around my legs, chin on my knees. "Well, the people trying to get into her heart could be thought of as before the Games. When I was so untrustworthy and stiff from the hardships of my childhood. So many people tried clawing on my own walls."

"And I walked around and opened the door?" Peeta guessed.

"No."

He frowned.

"I made one for you because I was forced to."

That was obviously not what he wanted to hear.

Peeta kept frowning for a few minutes. "…That's not as happy and loving as I would have thought."

"But it's true," I said thoughtfully, glancing over at him. "I made one for you because I had to, but you still got in. I don't mind. I would have let you in eventually."

We both smiled tiny smiles at each other.

"Well, it _is_ late," Peeta said finally, stretching his arms over his head and reaching to turn off the lamp on the nightstand. "We should be getting to sleep if we want to get anything done tomorrow."

It felt wonderful to sink under Peeta's covers again after four years, and when I did, I couldn't help but let out a long sigh of comfort and press myself closer to him.

"Goodnight, Peeta," I whispered.

"Goodnight, Katniss." He put his arms around me and held me as I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up first. Peeta's arms were still wound securely around me, one under my neck the other draped over my waist. His head was leaning against mine, lips near my right temple. Unable to keep the relieved smile off of my face, I carefully slid out of his hold and off of the bed.

I'd had no nightmares. That may have been the first time in a very, very long time that I'd slept without any interruptions. It didn't surprise me because it was also the first time in a very, very long time I'd fallen asleep with Peeta. He was incredibly warm and comfortable. Looking back at him, I laughed because he'd curled around a pillow where I had lain a few seconds ago.

He was still asleep, of course.

I went to check up on Forest before taking a shower. He was still asleep, too. That must have been my lucky day, him sleeping through the night. In a strange place, nonetheless. I didn't blame the little guy, of course; we'd had a big day.

I went back in my room to shower and change. I noticed that a few of my jeans didn't fit anymore. They just wouldn't button up, and even though I knew it was because giving birth set my hips a little wider than before, it was aggravating. When I found a properly-fitting pair of trousers and stole one of Peeta's T-shirts just because I could, I left everyone sleeping to go downstairs.

In the kitchen I set about frying bacon and making pancakes. There wasn't an abundance of food in the refrigerator or the pantry, but it was obvious Mother and Prim had tried to keep them at least a little stocked just in case he decided to cook for himself.

Halfway through the bacon, I heard the kitchen door open and turned to see my two boys enter. Forest was half-asleep and leaning against Peeta's shoulder as he carried him, and neither were changed out of their pajamas. Peeta set our son carefully on his throne of reference books before walking over to me and leaning against the counter next to me as he usually did.

"You scared me," he said with a light smile. "I woke up and you weren't there. Until I got Forest I thought that I'd dreamt yesterday."

"I'm sorry." Smiling apologetically, I offered him some bacon. "Compensation?"

He took it, smiling back. "What's with you all of a sudden? Yesterday, washing the dishes, and today cooking for us. You seem more like an obedient housewife than the old Katniss."

I reached up to grab a wooden spoon hanging above me and smacked Peeta's chest with it teasingly. "I'm not an obedient housewife."

"Since when did you learn to make pancakes without turning them into some disgusting mutations?"

"Since I no longer had you to cook for me." I put food on three separate plates and pushed one into his hands, trying not to grin too much. "Do something useful with that big mouth of yours and feed it."

"Yes, ma'am." He winked, and went to go sit down.

I sat, too, and put a plate with a strip of bacon and tiny pancake in front of Forest. "Wake up, love, it's breakfast time."

Forest huffed a tired little groan out and opened his eyes tiredly. "Breakfast?"

"Bacon and pancakes." I tucked a napkin into the collar of his shirt. "Try and be neat."

Still half-asleep, he took the fork I'd given him and poked at his pancake.

"As soon as we finish, we need to go to town," I sucked a bit of syrup off my thumb. "The bakery is our first stop."

"There's more than one?" Peeta asked from across the table.

"We need to get Forest more clothes."

Forest, who had his head rested on his hands, looked up with glazed eyes. "Why?"

I reached over and began cutting up his pancake into tiny pieces. "Because you can't just have one outfit for the rest of your life."

He just frowned and popped a piece of pancake into his mouth.

"But anyways," I turned back to Peeta. "I thought of something. Have you seen Caroline or Ivy since…Have you?"

Peeta looked alarmed, as though he only just remembered them. "Not since about three years ago." He looked down at his food with a disturbed look on. "...They came to your mother's house. I was in my room when Ivy came bounding in. But Prim took her back, telling her I wasn't feeling very good, and when she couldn't explain why you weren't there, too, they just left. I haven't seen them since."

I felt a little guilty, but just cleared my throat and took a bite of bacon. "We should go see them today."

"Ivy would be in school," he pointed out quietly.

"Mama," Forest looked up from his mostly-uneaten breakfast. "Who are Caroline and Ivy?"

"Their friends of mine and Daddy's."

"Oh." He blinked, and then went back to his food.

"Hey, Peeta," I said suddenly, creasing my eyebrows. "Have you seen Haymitch?"

"He left for District 13 a week after we disappeared, apparently."

Letting out a groan, I covered my face with my hands. "…We have a lot to do. I feel terrible. We need to have some sort of giant…gathering and invite everyone to it instead of hopping around town trying to talk to everyone. I take it Finnick and Annie aren't here either?"

Peeta shook his head.

"I need to get on the phone." Heaving a heavy sigh, I stood up. No matter how much I absolutely hated it, I needed to talk to people. They'll ask questions and bend me until I break (again) and strip my secrets from me like paper, but I couldn't _not_. Haymitch, my mentor and friend and drunken mess of a man. Ivy and Caroline. Annie and Finnick. No one else. At least, not until necessary. I was going to put it off for as long as possible. I didn't want to go to District 13 and talk to President Coin. I didn't _want_ to.

"Don't, Katniss," Peeta stopped me at the kitchen doorway. He put a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to take care of everything yourself. Your mother and I will make the arrangements. Don't stress, okay? Just relax."

That was what he said the day before, but I didn't enjoy it. How could I relax when there were things to do?

"In fact, I'll call Benj and Anna-Mae over, too. So we don't have to go to the bakery." He took my hand and guided me back to the table. "We'll just have a big dinner with everyone."

"Annie and Finnick and Haymitch aren't going to be able to make it on time," I said disagreeably.

"We'll see about that." He shoved our dishes in the sink. "Before heading out we'll stop by your mother's."

I wasn't sure if I liked his plan, but I didn't argue with him as I picked Forest up. "Alright, Peeta. Whatever you like."

He just smiled exasperatedly at me.

We all got dressed and stopped by Mother's on the way to town, like Peeta said. Of course, she agreed to call everyone for us and said not to worry about schedules for a while because she got her boss to give her and Prim the next week or so off.

After managing to pry ourselves from their clutches, we went to town and spent hours shopping around. I had to admit, we got a lot of stares. A lot. And whispers. People gawked at us while we passed, not bothering to even try and conceal their shock. Katniss is back. Peeta is back. Katniss and Peeta are together again. With a kid! Forest rode on Peeta's shoulders as usual, oblivious to people's gaping.

We'd finished eating lunch in town maybe an hour ago, and Peeta was slowly getting frustrated. "I hate how everyone's staring at us. As _if_ we didn't notice."

"I know." I squeezed his hand. "But you've got to give them the benefit of the doubt. It's a pretty crazy thing to see. And this early in the morning!"

"This is no environment to raise a child," he hissed. "No one deserves to be this…this _famous_ before he can even tie his own shoes."

"I know," I said again. It upset me, too. Forest didn't do anything. He shouldn't have to pay for what his parents supposedly accomplished.

Though I wasn't too happy with it, I managed a smile to a few of those passing, and they stood there with their mouths open as if maybe we didn't see them and were smiling at someone else, as if they couldn't believe their luck.

I considered moving to a faraway island for a moment.

"Let's go before they start praying at us," Peeta began walking faster.

Normally the fame didn't upset him too terribly. But it _had_ been four years. It didn't surprise me.

We got back home and gratefully closed out house door between us and the staring crowd.

"Let's get you into some clean clothes," I took Forest and set him on the couch.

After he was dressed in fresh clothing, Peeta and I hauled him over to my mother's house.

"Oh, hello, you three!" Mother greeted us from inside the kitchen as she dashed around, carrying pots and spoons and ingredients.

"Hello, Mother," I said, setting Forest down. "What's the rush for?"

"They're going to be here at five!" she said, grabbing a dish from the fridge. "I contacted of everyone while you were out and they're all so excited. Word got around faster than I thought possible."

I'd believe that.

"They're all coming here? To this house?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Mother paused for a minute in front of me, and then smiled. "Oh, I'm just so happy we're doing this."

Peeta sat down at the table. "If you'd have told us it was here, I would have started some bread or cookies or _something_… Who all did you call?"

"Well," After removing a tray of meatloaf from the oven, she took her oven mitts off and wiped her hands together. "First I called Haymitch to see how long it would take him to get here. He was…well…" She rolled her eyes, and we all knew that he was most likely hung-over or drunk when she called. "He wasn't feeling too well, but when he heard that you two were back home he said he'd be over as soon as he could after some sort of meeting."

"Did you tell him about Forest?" I grabbed my son playfully by his middle as he ran by and scooped him onto my lap. He let out a scream of laughter and snuggled into my stomach.

Mother smiled at all three of us. Beamed, really. "Oh, no, that isn't my news to share. I'm sure he's going to be very excited. Poor Haymitch was an absolute wreck when he left for Thirteen those years ago."

We couldn't help but hang our heads guiltily, Peeta and me.

"So he's coming at five?"

"Yes." She went back to scurrying around, tidying things and checking on things simmering in pans on the stove. "That set a time frame for when to invite Caroline and dear Ivy. You wouldn't _believe_ how stunned they were." My mother let out a laugh. "It was precious."

My heart skittered a few beats, anticipating seeing my old friends again. Sweet, tiny, red-headed Ivy and her wonderfully kind, hard-working mother, Caroline. They'd help me get back on my feet after a difficult time in my life. I owed them an awful lot. When I…left, Ivy had been four for about a month. That would make her—eight? Good lord. It was a wonder she remembered me, if she did at all. I felt sad, missing a good portion of her life.

"And then?" I asked, ignoring the pain that was brought on. "Did you contact Benj and Anna-Mae?"

She nodded. "Yes, they're coming at five as well."

"And Finnick and Annie?"

Tiny yellow tears actually budded in my mother's eyes and she smiled, as lovely and wrinkled as ever. "Oh, yes. Jace answered the phone."

Jace.

My gut twisted a second time as I remembered the little guy. I'd delivered him. Annie was as close to a girlfriend I had; she requested it be me—no one else—to deliver her first child, who she named after her brother who died in the bombing.

Jace hadn't been a year old when I left.

He ought to be around four, then.

I felt like crying even more.

Peeta scooted his chair up next to mine and he put his arm around my shoulders in a half-hug. "You okay?"

I nodded and touched the single tear that had slipped from my eyelashes. "I'm alright. I just… Nothing waited for us. Everything seems to have sped up the second I wasn't paying close attention. Primrose is nineteen. Ivy is eight. Jace is four. I feel…" I let out a small laugh that was full of emotion. "I feel _old_."

"That's right," Peeta said, remembering something. "I missed your birthday. Again. You're what, eighty?"

"Ha-ha," I said, voice dripping with sarcasm, but smiled gratefully at him. "Very funny, Peeta. No, I turned twenty-three last month. Eighty…twenty-three. What's the difference?"

Pressing his lips to my temple, I felt him laugh as well. "Several more birthdays. And children. Grandchildren. Maybe even great-grandchildren."

"_Hush," _I pushed him away. "Don't speed things up any more than they're already going." Feeling a smile creep up onto my face, a smile of adoration and amusement, I changed the subject, averting it back to my mother. "So, _anyways_, Mother, would you like some help as you get ready?"

"Oh, it's alright." She waved me off, poking at the cooling cobbler in the pan. "Primrose is on a cleaning-mission, and she's doing an excellent job. You three just make yourselves at home until four-thirty. I've set the alarm so we all have time to get dressed."

Letting Forest slip from my grip and having him run off, I raised an eyebrow. "I'm dressed."

"You're not wearing something nicer for a dinner like this one? This is the first time you've seen these people in years."

"Don't make me feel guilty, Mother," I said. "I'm not putting on a fancy dress and doing my hair up."

"She has a point, love," Peeta said humorously, grinning at me with an air of obvious amusement. "You _are_ wearing my shirt."

I looked down. "…Okay, fine, I'll put on a different shirt before they get here, but no new dresses."

Still smiling, Peeta stood. "Well, if you don't need me right now, I'm going to get some bread started back at our house." When I stood with him, he bent to kiss my cheek. "I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay." I touched the shaggy hair nearly brushing his shoulders. "…You need a haircut."

"If there's time, I'll take care of that," Mother offered over stirring some sort of savory-smelling something on one of the burners.

After Peeta left, I exited the kitchen to hunt down my son. I found him without difficulty bouncing on the couch in the living room.

"What are you doing, little monkey?" I asked him playfully as approaching the sofa.

He literally leapt into my arms from where he was bouncing. "Mama!" Forest clung to me with his legs and little fingers. "I was jumpin' on the couch!"

"I could tell." Still holding him, I went back into the kitchen and interrupted my mother arranging slices of fruit on the cobbler she'd taken out of the oven a bit ago. "Hey, Mother?"

"Yes, dear?" she said, not looking up.

"Where did you say Primrose was again?"

"Just around, cleaning up." Mother offered a slice of apple to Forest, who at it. "It shouldn't be too hard finding her. Why?"

I set my son down on the floor. "Is it alright if I leave Forest here for a little bit? Maybe not the entire time until five, but—"

She waved her hand dismissively. "It's alright, Katniss. You can go back home. Forest will be in good hands."

"Thank you." I gave my mother a brief hug. "I'll find Prim before I leave so he won't be in your way."

"He's fine," Mother assured me. "Now, go. You and Peeta need some alone time."

Primrose was inside one of the bathrooms on the first floor. She was trying to wipe fingerprints off of the mirror when I came in holding Forest's hand.

"Oh, hey, Katniss!" Prim said brightly. "I didn't know you guys were here!"

"Only for a little bit. I have a favor to ask of you."

Prim put down her cloth and wiped her hands on the front of her shirt. "What?"

"Do you mind watching Forest until Peeta and I come back at, like, four?" I bit my lip hopefully.

She just laughed. "No problem! I looove him." Prim scooped my son up into her arms and kissed him several times on his cheek. "You and Peeta take your time. Just be back here by five."

"Thank you, Prim." I gave her a one-armed hug. "We will be."

Leaving my little sister and my son in the restroom and my mother working in the kitchen, I left their house to cross the lawn to mine and Peeta's.

Of course, Peeta was in the kitchen, kneading a giant hunk of bread.

I snuck up behind him and slipped into the crook of his arm. "I didn't think you still had it in you.

Peeta grinned. "What, making bread? Of course I still have it in me."

"Of _course_." I watched as he tried to knead when his arms were bent around me. "I left Forest with Prim so we could have a little bit of time together. I said we'd come back at four."

He took one of his hands away from the bread dough to tweak my nose. "That's two hours. Good job. Just let me finish with this bread and wash my hands."

Rolling my eyes, I stepped out of the circle of his arms again to sit on the counter and watch until he finished.

When he did and after he scrubbed all the flour off of his hands, Peeta walked over to in front of where I sat. "Thank you for being so patient." His eyes twinkled. "Now, Miss Katniss, what did you have in mind for us to do in these hours?"

"Two is not near enough to do what I had in mind," I said, shrugging. When Peeta gave me a mischievous, "you're impossible" look, I couldn't help but let out a laugh. "I wasn't thinking of _that_, Peeta. Honestly."

"Sure you weren't." He helped me down from the counter and we walked up to the second floor into his bedroom. "Are you positive you aren't wearing a dress tonight?"

"Nope." I folded my hands behind my back defiantly. "Are you?"

"Definitely not." Peeta grinned again and opened the wardrobe. "I think you look nice in dresses, though."

"No," I said again fixedly. "If you keep this up, I'm wearing your T-shirt and undershorts. The more you talk, the more my Fancy Level goes down."

He pulled me in, wrapping his arms around my waist and leaning our foreheads together. "I think you're beautiful any way you dress."

"You know what's weird, Peeta?" I tried to keep an even tone of voice while wrapping a bit of his long blond hair around my pinky finger. "That we've kissed once in the past three and a half years."

Peeta pretended to be alarmed. "You're right: that _is_ weird."

The space between us closed as he squeezed me against him, pressing our lips together firmly. Our kiss yesterday was light and just a touch, barely a whisper. It said "I missed you". The kiss we were sharing then was more of a "sweet Mother Mary, it's been ages since we've kissed and this needs to make up for three years of not doing it."

Peeta's hair tickled my face as he bent over me, deepening the kiss and gripping my hips tighter in his hands. I felt his tongue flicker against mine and the vibration of his low moaning coming from the back of his throat.

I'd forgotten what it felt like to kiss Peeta.

I remembered.

Remembering at that second was better than sex.

I didn't want to let go.

"Hey, Katniss?" Peeta tried to say between kisses, but I didn't understand most of it because it was slurred.

Reluctantly, I pulled away, trying not to pant too hard. "Mm?"

"I think we need to take your mother up on that offer of her babysitting Forest. Tonight."

I stretched up on my tippy toes, eyes still shut, and brushed my lips against his gently. "Mm… Do we really?"

"Yes." He brought a hand up to my face to stroke his thumb along the line of my jaw. "…I've missed you so much."

This time, I opened up my eyes to look into his, which were shining so bright with happiness it nearly hurt. "…I've missed you, too."

"Now come on," Taking his arms back from around me, he tugged playfully on one of my belt loops and turned back to the open wardrobe. "I need to find something better to wear tonight."

"You're a guy," I said, rolling my eyes and trying not to act like kissing him just then put me on a serious high. "It's not like you need to choose hairpieces or shoes or which wrap to wear with your dress."

"Good point." Peeta pulled out a long-sleeved white T-shirt. "This one?"

"…No." I put it back for him. "Try a button-down."

"Hm…" As he rummaged, a thought popped into his mind and he paused. "…We should match. In color or something."

"Match?" My face screwed up. "That's weird."

"No, look," Peeta grabbed a green blouse off of one of the hangers, and a green button-down. He handed me the blouse. "They might be _one_ shade off, but no one would notice."

I had to admit, the blouse was a lot better than the "Mellark's Bakery" shirt I'd borrowed from Peeta. And you couldn't even tell that it was a teensy bit lighter than his button-down.

"Fine. You win." Letting a defeated smile creep onto my face, I went into the bathroom to change.

The blouse was snug-fitting, but in a good way. The sleeves ended with ruffles and there were also ruffles on the neck where it dipped just low enough to expose my collarbone before buttoning. Though it was girly, more girly than I usually wear, it fit just right and made me feel…pretty. Being able to wear just a brassier under it was a plus, too.

My hair was fine, so I just left it and went back to Peeta in the room.

He hadn't buttoned his shirt yet and was laying on his back on the bed, limbs sprawled carelessly and his hair fanning like a halo around his head.

When I came to sit on my knees next to him on the bed, he glanced up at me and grinned. "You look beautiful."

See what I meant about feeling pretty?

"Thank you. You look nice, too." Though that was true, with his gorgeous torso out there for everyone to see, I smiled at him and began to do up the buttons. "I appreciate the undone look, but I don't know if Finnick or Haymitch would much. Or anyone else."

"Not fair." Peeta grabbed my hands, which were halfway buttoning, and pulled me down onto him for a kiss. "I wasn't going to button up until we had to leave."

"I do apologize," I said sarcastically against his lips, but then drew back. "Maybe it's a good idea for you to shave before we go."

"Buh. Shaving." Letting out a groan, he sat up and rolled off of the bed, stretching his arms above his head. "I'm going, I'm going."

He was amazing. It was hard not to fall backwards onto the bed, laughing like a lunatic, because I was so lucky. If I was him, I would have left me long ago. Especially after all of my stupid problems. As soon as I fixed those, I leave him for four years. Yet he's still waiting for me and acts as though nothing ever happened.

Thinking that, I remembered something he told me years ago. After the Games, after the Quell, after leaving District 13. I remembered the feeling of his hands on my face and staring into his wet, frightened eyes.

"Katniss,"

Peeta's voice made me twirl my head around to look at him.

He was leaning against the bathroom doorway, half of his lower face covered in shaving cream, holding a dusty, crumpled box in his hand, wearing the most incredulous, _hilarious_ expression I'd ever seen on him.

"Yes?" I asked innocently.

"Why the _hell_ is there an ancient box of condoms in our bathroom cabinet?" He tossed the crumpled box at me and it hit my knees.

The second I looked down at the box, a wave of laughter hit me harder than I thought humanly possible, wheezing and clapping my hands like a retarded seal. "P—" I gasped, tears streaming from my eyes as I guffawed. It was no use trying to speak.

"I'm serious!" Peeta had begun sniggering, too. "I don't remember ever having any or else we would have used them up a long time ago."

That just made me laugh harder. I grabbed the box and threw it over to him again. "Go put it _back_!"

Shaking his head, he did as he was told and went to shave the rest of the way, leaving the bathroom door open. "I don't get you at all, Katniss. Did you buy those today or something?"

"I don't know about you," I said, trying not to grin like mad, "but I don't want to risk any more kids right now. Forest is enough, thank you."

"So you _did_ get them today?" He rinsed off his blade. "Sneaky little girl you are. I didn't even know you could get such a thing here."

"Well now you know." I laid on my back and propped my feet up on the wall behind the headboard of our bed. "You don't have to wave them around, though. It was mortifying enough just _buying_ them. You should have seen the look the lady was giving me, like I was committing some horrible sin."

"Yeah," Peeta laughed sarcastically, putting the cream and his blade away. "Imagine that, Katniss. People having sex for _fun_."

"Scandal…" Rolling my eyes, I got up and brushed off my blouse. "We only have about half an hour. Do you think the bread is done?"

"Maybe." He walked out of the bathroom, rubbing his newly smooth chin. "I _do_ like growing facial hair again. It makes me feel so much manlier."

"Like I've pointed out before, _Peeta_, you don't need to worry about your manliness." I followed him down the stairs. "Or are you not confident enough in your masculinity?"

"Oh, I'm confident enough in my masculinity, thank you." In the kitchen, he grabbed some oven mitts and opened our oven with them. "I'm glad this kind of yeast rises fast."

Thank you for the change of subject.

"And the cake?" I grabbed some plastic wrap off of one of the shelves. "Is that done, too?"

"Yep." He pulled them out as well and put them on the cooling rack. "Any more time, though, would have burnt it."

"It smells delicious." I watched as he iced it expertly, and the icing melted a little on contact.

"Hey, if you get me a large plate or two from that cabinet over there I can wrap all of this stuff and we can be on our way."

I did as I was told and handed him two platters from above me. After the warm bread and cake were securely wrapped onto the plates, Peeta handed one to me and kissed me affectionately on the head.

"You ready?"

"Not really." I smiled. "I don't like having to be sociable. Or social _at all _for that matter."

"Stop whining," he bumped his hip into mien on our way out the door (after throwing on some jackets). "These are all people we know. Aren't you excited?"

"More nervous than excited." It was impossible not to sigh. "More guilty than nervous _and_ excited."

Peeta shook his head and led the way up Mother's porch steps. "I know what you mean. But don't worry. We'll swallow that guilt until another day and have some fun. Eat your mother's cooking, have some cake, cry a little bit in front of everyone, dance. Sounds like a blast."

"Was that sarcasm? Don't answer that." I let myself into the house. "Mother! We're back!"

Instead of my mother, Primrose and Forest came barreling into the living room from the hallway, screaming with laughter.

They nearly ran into me and Peeta.

Forest slid from Prim's arms. "Mama!" he said, running over to us. "Daddy!" He hugged us each on the leg. "Is that cake, Mama?"

"Yes, but for after dinner." I smiled at his excited expression then looked up at my sister. "Thanks for watching him, Prim."

Prim picked up my son again. "It's no problem! He's such a sweet little guy."

"Is Mother still in the kitchen?"

"Yeah. She might need some help. If you want I c—"

"DADDY!" Forest called out from his spot in Primrose's arms. "I WANT A HORSEY RIDE."

Prim set him down and took the bread from Peeta. "Go ahead," she said. "Katniss and I will take care of it."

He just shook his head, grinning, and got down onto his hands and knees. "All aboard, Forest."

Forest climbed onto his father's back and off they rode.

"That's precious…" I said quietly before turning and following Prim into the kitchen.

Mother was still busy, but it was obvious progress had been made. The small table in the kitchen was covered completely with food: casseroles and mashed potatoes and bowls of vegetables and loaves of bread and fruity cobblers and deviled eggs. She was just starting to take the giant turkey from the oven when we came in.

"Goodness, Mother!" I exclaimed. "Even on Thanksgiving you don't cook this much!"

She smiled at me. "This kind of occasion doesn't happen annually. You look lovely, dear."

"Thank you." I set the cake down on the counter where there was a little free space. "I take it we're eating in the dining room?"

"Yes."

We hadn't eaten in the dining room in ages. It was much too big for such a small family, but with thirteen people, it was necessary.

"Is anyone here yet?" I asked, grabbing a handful of silverware from one of the drawers.

"No. The hovercrafts should get here in about twenty minutes. Caroline and Ivy should get here in fifteen. Not nearly enough time to do everything I'd planned."

"I'll help." I wasn't offering; I was telling. "What needs to be done?"

Mother sighed and smiled again, defeated. "I didn't want you to have to work when you just got home, but… I need to cut the stems of those flowers over there," she pointed, "and distribute them into the vases in the living room and dining room and bathroom. I suppose you could do that. And Prim, you could set the table."

I handed my little sister the silverware I was holding and went to pick up the packages of flowers. As I was walking out, my mother called after me, "Thank you, dear!"

It took me about ten minutes to speed-cut and zip around the house putting lilies and fern sprigs into the six vases. After filling the last vase in the bathroom, I nearly tripped over Peeta, who was charging down the hall on all-fours with Forest clinging to his neck.

"Peeta!" I laughed, tripping out of his way as they stumbled to a stop. "Careful!"

"Sorry, Katniss." He said, not getting up off of his hands and knees. "We're heading up north to see some polar bears. Would you like to join us?"

"Join us, Mama!" Forest kicked Peeta's sides with excitement.

"I can't, I'm sorry. Caroline and Ivy are going to be here in five minutes. Everyone else in ten." Just because, I added, "And don't be ridiculous. Polar bears went extinct over a hundred years ago."

"You're not serious?" Peeta looked surprised, but not about the polar bears. "That fast? Jeez, time flies. Okay, kiddo, hop off of the daddy express."

Whining, Forest slid off of his father's back and wanted to be held by me.

"I think you'll like my friends," I told him. "Esp—"

A scream interrupted me mid-sentence. Thankfully, it didn't sound like anyone was dying, but I still whipped around, clutching my son to me and nearly having a heart attack.

It was Ivy.

Eight years old, in a pristine white dress, her flaming hair actually tame for once, floating over her shoulders in waves. She barely looked like the Ivy I'd said goodbye to four years ago, but she was still _the same_.

And she was very surprised.

Very surprised, mouth open in an "O"-shape, staring at me with her wide, celery-colored eyes.

A grin spread across my face as I set Forest down on the floor. "Well? Do I get a hug?"

She ran and launched herself into my arms, just like she did when she was littler.

For a few minutes she and I said nothing. I had my face buried in Ivy's sweet-smelling hair, arms holding her up off the ground as we embraced.

"I've missed you," I said quietly and pulled away, not realizing I'd been crying. "Goodness, you've grown!"

Ivy was beaming. "I've missed you too, Katniss."

My heart broke a little just a little bit. She no longer had that childlike lisp to her voice, and she didn't call me "Caniss" anymore.

"I have something for you," I said, and I set Ivy back down.

Reaching into my back pocket, my fingers found what they were looking for and pulled out a bit of silky white ribbon.

"Recognize this?"

Ivy let out a squeal and put her hands over her mouth. "…Katniss?"

"Here," Just like before, I kneeled down and gathered here hair back with the ribbon and tied a perfect, loopy bow, and then stood up. "Is your mother here?"

Still grinning uncontrollably, she nodded and pointed behind her. "She's in the kitchen."

"Thank you." I kissed the little girl on her head before going to find Caroline.

Out of the corner of my eye as I left I saw Peeta pick Ivy up and hug her. Though I wanted to be there when he introduced her and Forest, I needed to find Caroline.

And I did indeed in the kitchen. Well, the dining room really. Her and Mother were setting the dishes out in the center of the massive table. I came in and leaned against the wall next to the door to watch them.

"So, out of the blue the doorbell rings," my mother was saying while she arranged the giant bowl of mashed potatoes next to the rolls. "If I would have— Katniss!" She noticed me and immediately stopped her talking to jump, nearly spilling the potatoes.

Caroline spun around, too, bumping the tiny stand where a vase of flowers sat so where it wobbled.

I couldn't help but grin widely as I saw her, and was caught immediately in a hug. "Hey, Caroline."

"My God, I thought I'd never see you again." Caroline squeezed me to her and then put her hands on either side of my face in disbelief. "You're hardly a little girl anymore! I barely recognize you!"

My cheeks grew pink. "…Thank you?"

"I don't even…" She gave me another hug, sniffling. "I don't even know what to say. It's been years. Peeta's here, too, right?"

"Yeah." Not unkindly, I drew away and began backing up to the door. "He's with Ivy and Forest in the living room."

"Forest?" Caroline raised an eyebrow.

Oh, goodness.

That brought on another blush to my cheeks and a proud step to my walk. "Yes. He's… Well, just come see for yourself."

I led Caroline around out the dining room and kitchen and into the living room.

Peeta was sitting carelessly on the suede couch, Ivy tucked under one of his arms, Forest under the other, and they were all engrossed in a colorful picture book Peeta was reading aloud.

My heart swelled with delight. "Hey. Peeta."

All three looked up. Ivy hopped off of the couch and skipped over to her mother, looking very pleased. Peeta scooped up Forest with one of his arms and tossed the picture book on the sofa behind him as he stood up.

Caroline seemed at loss for words. She looked from Peeta to Forest, back and forth at least five times. A few minutes passed—or seconds, it was probably seconds—and then she took a deep breath. "I'm… I'm speechless. Forest… That's…? He's…?"

Peeta seemed just as proud of our son as I was. He swung Forest onto his shoulders and walked closer to Caroline, eyes twinkling. "Forest, this is Caroline. Ivy's mother?"

Forest considered this for a few seconds before reaching away from his father's neck towards Caroline. She willingly took him in and wrapped her arms around him.

"You are an exact copy of your daddy," Caroline said in wonder. She looked up at me. "This is truly incredible. Four years seemed to fly by. I knew you were pregnant, but being here right now, seeing you three just…"

She set down Forest and embraced Peeta as she did me. "I've missed you two so much. I'm glad you're back."

"We're glad too, trust me." Peeta embraced her back, and then they both pulled away.

Ivy, who was standing next to her mother, asked, "Where did you go?"

What was the simplest way to explain this?

"We…went on a trip." I furrowed my brows unsurely. "Up north to see a…a friend of mine."

Both Peeta and I cringed, but the awkward moment was over fast.

Caroline bent down near her daughter. "So what do you think of Forest?"

Ivy eyed the sweet little boy, who grinned at her, and she grinned back. "He's cute. He says we have cake."

"_Always_ trust men who say they have cake," I whispered to her, and couldn't resist a wink up to Peeta.

Ivy giggled. "Okay, Katniss." She took Forest's hand and they crawled back up onto the couch to look at the pictures of the book Peeta was reading earlier.

"They're absolutely adorable," I could help but sigh and accept Peeta's arm curling around my waist. "Forest needed a friend."

"Just wait until he meets Jace."

"Oh dear. You're the male influence in this situation; I'm not participating in any of their mischief." I grimaced, thinking of all the havoc three-and-four-year-old boys running up and down the halls could make. Yes, Peeta was definitely in charge of that.

"Right…" He kissed the side of my head, just as the doorbell rang. His head cocked. "That must be Anna-Mae and Benj. I'll get it."

It wasn't.

It was Haymitch.

He looked at least a _little_ hung-over, but obviously tried at making himself more or less presentable in a wrinkled dress shirt and washed hair.

Peering up at Peeta, it took him a minute to speak. "…You need a haircut."

"It's nice to see you, too, Haymitch." Peeta rolled his eyes, but no one mistook his small smile. "I hate to break it to you, but there's no more than two glasses of alcohol per person."

Haymitch waved it off. "'S alright. I've had enough for a day or two. Now, can I come inside or are you going to let your old mentor freeze to death out here? Never mind, don't answer that."

He walked past Peeta inside the living room and rubbed his forehead before glancing around at his surroundings. His eyes fell first upon Caroline, and then me.

I swallowed. "…Hi, Haymitch."

And Haymitch completely surprised me. He shuffled up uncertainly to me and pulled me into an awkward hug. "It's about time you came back."

"I know. I'm sorry." I hugged him back. "It's good having you, back, too."

Haymitch took his arms back from me and shook his head. "That's arguable, but I'll take it."

That's when he saw Forest and Ivy on the couch.

He squinted hard at them. "…Well, paint me green and call me a pickle." The sarcasm was barely detected. "Has it really been that long?"

"Yes, Haymitch. You've probably been drunk for most of it." I walked over to the sofa and picked up Forest. He glanced up at me in annoyance form interrupting his book. "This is Forest, mine and Peeta's son. Forest, this is your Uncle Haymitch."

"Uncle?" Haymitch didn't quite know what to do when Forest ran up and hugged his leg (as he did with everyone new he met).

"Yes, Haymitch." I smiled. "You're uncle to two kids now!"

Ivy seemed to remember she used to call him Uncle Haymitch as well and squealed with delight.

Haymitch, now with another kid hanging off of his leg, looked frazzled. "Alright, alright. You win. You can let go of me." When they did as they were told, he picked up Forest and inspected him with curious eyes. When he set him back down, the thumbs-up he gave Peeta was very indiscreet and slightly amusing.

"So who all is here?" Haymitch wandered into the kitchen, but found all of the snacking food wasn't within reach.

We all followed.

"Just me, Peeta, Forest, Mother, Caroline, and Ivy," I said. "But Benj, Anna-Mae, Finnick, Annie, and Jace should be here any minute."

Haymitch grunted. "I don't like parties."

"It's not a party. It's a gathering." I shook my head. "You shouldn't be s—"

"Knock-knock!" came a voice from the door.

A familiar, arrogant Finnick-ish voice.

Trying not to skip with happiness, I quickly went out of the kitchen, holding Forest's hand, and found them in the living room.

Finnick, more chiseled and mature-looking; Annie, looking slim and exquisite in an autumn-gold frock and scarf; and Jace, a few inches taller than Forest (maybe as tall as Ivy, the big guy), with curly bronze hair hanging over his eyes the color of the sea, skin just the color of honey.

Annie ran over to me and I was suddenly enveloped in her frilly scarf and chocolate-colored hair.

"You're here!" she said through tears. "You're actually here, Katniss! I was so afraid after you left, and then—and then Finnick came back and he—and you—"

"Take a deep breath," I told her, and let go of her to hold her small hands in mine. "There's nothing to freak about."

"Nothing to freak about?" Annie had tears sliding down her cheeks. "You're _back_, Katniss! If that isn't enough to freak about I don't know what is!"

I disagreed, and finding the perfect opportunity to introduce my son.

"Hey, Annie," I gently pulled Forest in front of me by his hands. Even though I've introduced him so many times in the past few days, my heart always skipped a little nervously each time. "This is mine and Peeta's son, Forest. And Forest, this is your Auntie Annie."

Forest didn't get a chance to demand to be held because Annie had to scramble off into the bathroom, hands pressed to the sides of her head, hiccupping.

Finnick had stood by for all of that, arms crossed, eyebrows creased a little. "…So, what, I'm invisible, am I?"

"No." I laughed, wiping my eyes, and I accepted his near-strangling bear hug that crushed my ribs into my lungs.

"Nice having you back, Fire Girl. We were beginning to worry. And nice kid." He flashed Forest a grin, and then went to thump Peeta on the back and exchange manly words with him.

Jace tried shuffling after his father, nervously sucking on his fingers like Forest did, but stopped when he saw me staring at him.

I knelt down in front of him, slipping into my soft-hearted motherly mode. "Hey, Jace," I said softly. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Jace, not taking his fingers from his mouth, shook his head.

"My name is Katniss." When I held out my hand to shake with his, he just looked at it with an expression of worry. "I'm friends with your mother and father. The last time I saw you, you were just a baby."

He was still silent and motionless.

I smiled. "Have you met my son?"

Jace shook his head.

"Come on." Standing up, I took little Jace's hand and gently guided him over to where Forest and Ivy were again engrossed in the picture book.

When Forest turned around and saw me and Jace, he squealed happily.

"Forest, love, this is Jace. He's about your age. Why don't you keep him company while I check up on Grandmamma, okay?"

My son bounced up and down on the balls of his little feet and grabbed Jace's hand. "C'mon! Daddy will give us horsey rides!"

For the first time, I saw Jace grin and they went off to pester another horsey ride out of Peeta.

"You know, it's kind of funny," I said to Finnick, who was watching our kids ride off down the hall. "Being your son and all, you'd expect him to be incredibly outgoing and a social butterfly. And Forest, being my son, you wouldn't think he'd be as wild."

Finnick cocked his head, bronze curls of his hair tickling his eyebrows. "…That's true. No, Jace has never been a 'social butterfly'. He doesn't even want to go out and make friends. I think having a boy his age to play with will be good for him. For both of him."

Agreed.

"So, how do you like being a father so far?" As soon as the words came from my mouth, I felt a little stupid.

Finnick glanced at me sideways. "It's not bad. Horrible, sometimes. Annoying a lot. Tiring all the time. Jace is a good kid, but like all little boys, he has his days."

I nearly laughed. "You sound so old and boring."

"…Did you just call me old and boring?"

"Yes, I did. If you wore that net suit you wore in the Quell more often, that'd spice up an ordinary day for sure."

"I'm going to pretend this conversation never happened, alright?"

"Okay."

It felt good being back home.

It took a little longer than I thought for Anna-Mae and Benjamin to get there, but when they did, it took even longer to get everyone gathered into the dining room. Peeta was complaining about back pains after giving Forest and Jace ride after ride up and down the hallways. Forest, Jace and Ivy were best friends in less than half an hour, and took seats next to each other. We ran out of reference books to stuff under the smaller children so they could reach the table.

By the time everyone—Me, Peeta, Forest, Primrose, Mother, Caroline, Ivy, Jace, Finnick, Annie, Benj, Anna-Mae, and Haymitch—was seating, it was well after six o'clock. The only way to get everyone quiet and paying attention was when Mother stood up and tapped her spoon on her glass of wine, just like people did in movies.

"I'm sorry to interrupt any good conversations going on," she said genially, "but I'd like to thank each of you for making time in your busy schedules to come on such a short notice."

Hearing such a formal speech from my mother was a little weird, but I just kept quiet and gazed up at her, as everyone else was. Peeta slipped his hand around mine under the table.

"I would have done this sooner, but we were obviously missing some of the most important people in our lives."

Oh, goodness. Eyes were now on Peeta and me, and I felt my cheeks heating up under the pressure of their stares.

"Katniss, I recognize these years have been hard for you, and we won't pressure anything out of you."

A relieved breath was whooshed out of my lungs and Peeta squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"I just wanted to remind you and Peeta that we're all family and we've missed you more than anything in the world."

Swallowing awkwardly, I glanced sideways down at Forest, who was fidgeting in his seat, eyeing the cobbler.

"But of course." Mother laughed, still holding the attention of all twelve guests. "I forgot another little someone who's here today with us that hadn't been previously. Forest. Such a handsome little man with the looks of his father and the strength of his mother. I thank you three for making it here, and I think we can all say without hesitation that we missed you and love you very much."

How come I didn't expect that?

Sitting hunched in my seat, clutching onto Peeta's hand, I watched as all of my friends and family raised their glasses and drank to the company of us.

I think I cried.

**oOo**

_Sweet baby Jesus that was LONG. Phew. _

_I do apologize._

_Review, maybe?_

_Please?_

_I'll have awesome thing happen with Peeta and Katniss if you do! (wink wink nudge nudge)_


	19. Chapter 19

_This chapter, as you might have gathered, is going to be basically…just Peeta and Katniss fluff. And perhaps they'll…you know…-ahem- sing a song. *__coughGETSOMEcough__* Maybe. _

_Oh, and just to warn you guys, Peeta might be a little…well, perverted. I'm trying not to, but it's just kind of appearing that way. I'm rusty at writing these kinds of things._

_As long as you enjoy it, don't judge. _

_Promise._

_This chapter is dedicated to my BEEAAAAAUUUUUTIFUL Mellark's Heart because it is her birthday tomorrow. We agreed for me to update as close to the 29th-30th-31st as possible because my birthday is on the 31st and hers the 29th, so this worked out almost perfectly! So happy birthday to YOU, my friend, and I hope you have the BEST BIRTHDAY EVER.  
><em>

**oOo**

Giving Haymitch a restriction on his alcohol was futile. In the end he was passed out on one of our couches, where Mother draped a blanket over him and said he could sleep it off.

Anna-Mae (who was obviously pregnant and only five months in) was the first to leave with Benj. Peeta paid them a generous amount for keeping the bakery. Needless to say, the two left very happy.

Caroline offered to stay after with Ivy to help with cleanup, but Mother insisted that they go home and get some rest since the day after was a school day, so they left as well.

Annie, Finnick and Jace ended up going back to the Victor's Village house next to Haymitch's old house which they stayed in for my wedding. Jace and Forest said goodbye to one another. Jace crawled up into Annie's arms and Forest into Prim's.

"Take care, you three." Mother gave them each goodbye hugs. "Feel free to come over here for breakfast. I'll be up early."

They thanked her and nearly strangled Peeta, me and Forest with their own hugs.

"Do us all a favor and stay in one place, will you?" Finnick's eyes glinted with humor and he knocked me over the head. "See you tomorrow, lovebirds."

I'd never get used to him calling us that.

We all watched as the last of the people left, until it was just me, Peeta, Forest, Mother, Primrose, and a passed-out Haymitch left. Now that it was clear that the part was indeed over and people needed to start heading on home, Forest seemed to clutch onto Prim even harder.

"Come on, love, it's time to go home and go to bed," I tried to coax, holding my arms out for him.

He half-hid his face behind Primrose's arm. "No."

I put my hands on my hips. "You don't just get to tell your mother 'no'. Now say goodnight to Grandmamma and Auntie Prim. We need to get home."

"Grandmamma," Forest turned his lower lip towards my mother and put on the most pitiful, sweet 3-year-old face in the world. "May I please stay with you and Auntie?"

There was a quiet when Peeta, me and my mother exchanged glances.

"I don't see why not," Mother said quietly, smiling apologetically at me. "Of course, not unless you're okay with it."

Everyone looked at me for approval. Just to be annoying, I rolled my eyes over to Peeta and gave him my best "_Well?_" face. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"I'm alright with it if you are." Peeta gave me a charming little smile.

I remembered something he said earlier back alone in our room. In fact, I remembered all that had happened alone in our room. Heat rushed so suddenly to my cheeks I just put a hand to my forehead.

"Fine. _Fine_. But we don't have his pajamas or anything here."

"He can borrow a T-shirt," Prim suggested. "If that's okay."

"Of course it's fine." Forest had worn Peeta's shirt to bed before, and before that, he wore my shirts a lot.

Peeta took Forest from Prim's arm and gave him a hug, poking him briefly in the stomach. "Be good, okay? Or else I'll have to unleash the dragon and have him eat you when you get back."

Our son giggled into his hands. "Okay, Daddy, I'll be good!"

"Good." Peeta kissed his cheek and put him into my arms.

"Have fun, okay? Go to bed on time." I kissed his cheek as well and squeezed him.

After we'd passed him between me and his father, I gave him back to Prim and hugged her tightly. "Thank you again, Prim."

"It's _really_ no problem." She gave me a look like, '_I keep telling you that.'_ "He can sleep with me in my bed."

Forest squirmed with excitement.

"This is, ah, his first time without sleeping near me," I admitted. "Last night was the first time in his life he'd slept in a different room than me. So if he wakes up wanting me you can take him over if you'd like."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine; I wouldn't want to disturb you." Prim hooked her arms under my son and nuzzled her nose into his cheek. "He's just the sweetest thing I've ever seen in my life."

I then embraced my mother.

"Don't you worry, Katniss. We'll take care of Forest," she said. "I knew you and Peeta need more than just two hours to yourself."

"Thank you." That must have been the millionth time I'd told her that in the past two days. "Maybe this is just what we need."

"I know it is." Mother patted my cheek. "Now go. Have fun."

I bumped into Peeta's side and took a few steps back towards the door. "I'll see you guys tomorrow!" When I caught Forest's eye, I blew him a kiss. "Be good, honey!"

"I will, Mama!" He wrapped his arms around Prim's neck. "Night night!"

"Goodnight!"

Laughing and squeezing our hands, Peeta and I stumbled together on the lawn.

"Guess what, Katniss?" Peeta asked, knocking his hip against mine.

"What?"

"This is our first night alone together in three and a half years. Our first _real_ night in four."

"Ooh, you can do math." I grinned up at him.

Light shone brightly from the warped oval moon, illuminating each frosty breath we took. It was a clear night with stars shining through the air, which meant an extra cold night for us. I thanked God we had a fancy electric thermostat instead of having to heat with wood, because we only had enough for about one fire.

Peeta sighed. "That wasn't quite the reaction I was hoping for."

"I'm just disappointing you all over the place today, aren't I?" That was sarcasm, and fortunately, he got it.

"Yes," Peeta said, wiggling his fingers a little on my hip. "You're going to have to make it up to me."

"I'm not even going to ask what you mean by that…"

"Nothing terrible." He kissed the top of my head. "You read into things too much." When we got to the front door, Peeta glanced over at me. "May I?"

"…May you what?"

Without any warning, he suddenly bent and swept his arm under my knees, swinging me up into his arms.

I cried out and automatically grabbed his neck. "PEETA!"

My heart went up into my throat before calming back down, but by then he'd had struggled to get the door open and was carrying me inside.

"Put me down," Who cares if I was ruining his fun? He surprised me.

Joking—and nowhere near obeying me—Peeta buried his face in my neck. "But I don't want to."

"You're sounding just like Forest."

"Mm. Fine." He set me back on my feet but didn't let go, sliding his hands down to lace at the small of my back. "You win, as always."

"I don't always win." Fighting a wide smile, I tilted myself against Peeta and curled my hands between us on his collarbone. "Most of the time I cater to your silly man whims."

"That's right," Peeta growled, playfully pushing me away. "Go make me a sandwich."

I laughed. "No!"

"Go make me a sandwich!" he said again, grinning. "And what are you doing wearing shoes? Women are always supposed to be barefoot and pregnant, you know that!"

"Barefoot and pregnant?" The laughter was almost making me double over, but I managed to skip away from him trying to grab my waist. "Where'd you learn _that_?"

"Experience." Peeta caught me and I nearly would have fell sideways if he hadn't lifted me completely off my feet.

I squealed and wrapped my legs around his hips. A wave of dizziness threatened to turn my vision black but it held up, and it was hard to not laugh some more. Peeta stopped spinning to put his face near mine.

"I thought I said barefoot and pregnant," he whispered mischievously into my ear. "Why don't you take care of that?" His fingers dug into my thighs.

Pardon?

Still smirking, I peeled the shoes off with my toes and then crossed my feet behind Peeta's back. "There, but I'm _not_ getting pregnant again. No more kids right now."

"And my sandwich?"

I smacked his chest. "Perfectly good moment ruined right there, Peeta. Now let me down."

"Aw."

Peeta let me down and I backed up towards the stairs, adding a teasing skip to my step. "Are you coming?"

He raised an eyebrow and looked confused, the impish little smile vanishing quickly.

"…Not like _that_, Peeta." An amused, exasperate sigh left my mouth and I spun the opposite direction to walk up the stairs. "And you thought _I_ was the one reading into things incorrectly."

Peeta followed me up the stairs.

Honestly, I hadn't intended anything naughty when asking if he was going to come. In my mind I was thinking of a nice shower and then crawling under the covers. In _his_ mind, though, it was a lot different. I'd told him plenty I didn't want to risk any more children. Never mind that box of protection that appeared in our bathroom cabinet. I didn't exactly trust any of them not to break.

As I went up to our bedroom, I knew I was blushing. Mother always said that if you couldn't talk or think about sex without laughing or being embarrassed then you were probably too young to have it. It was a different circumstance for me whenever _I_ laughed at the thought. Peeta and I were just so clumsy and pathetic, I couldn't help _but_ laugh.

I got into our room without realizing Peeta was right on my tail the entire time.

He briefly put his arm around my torso to give me a fond squeeze. "I'm sorry if I'm annoying you. I don't mean to."

"You're not _annoying_ me, Peeta," I turned around in his arms and rested my hands on his shoulders, twirling a bit of his hair around one of my fingers. "You're just being a silly boy."

Peeta was better again, a crooked grin flitting across his face and he bent to brush our noses. "Just a silly boy?"

"Mmhm." I pulled him in for the kiss, but it only lasted a few seconds until I pulled away. "Hey, Peeta, I'm going to take a shower now." I kissed him again, wanting the taste of his lips to be on mine just for a little longer. "Okay?"

"Can I request something?" He didn't let go of me quite yet, but I saw a tiny hint of pink on the tops of his cheeks.

"Go ahead."

"You said you don't want to risk any more children, and I respect that and the fact that you're trying to be in denial about buying condoms," a humorous smile flashed across his face, "but if I promise to behave can I join you?"

Silence.

I started giggling again.

"You're laughing at me!" Peeta looked a little offended, but only by joke. He was smiling.

"I'm not laughing at you," I promised, bringing my arms away from him to lace our fingers. "I was laughing at the way you worded it, like some formal request or something. Come on."

We were both pink and smirking when I tugged him into the bathroom, only closing the door halfway behind us.

If it was awkward undressing in front of Peeta before, it was nothing compared to then. Though I did my best to act as though I wasn't absolutely humiliated by it, the feeling was still there, making it necessary for me to turn my back to him.

"You know what would be really terrible?" I said while unbuttoning my blouse, "If Forest decided he didn't want to spend the night with them after all and Prim came to drop him off. I can imagine them waltzing right upstairs and finding something they probably didn't want to find."

"Katniss, didn't you see Prim's face when she insisted against that?" Peeta was halfway through undressing, leaning against the bathroom sink in just his undershorts, hair disheveled and hanging in front of his eyes. "She's not going to interrupt us; this is our first night shared—alone—in years. Anyone can presume it's not going to be a good idea wandering our house. It's like stopping by newlywed's house during their honeymoon."

I blinked.

The band of my brassier scratched between my shoulder blades.

He had a point.

"Just out of curiosity," he continued, "why are you trying to undress so I don't see you? If you're not comfortable with this—"

"No, no. It's fine. I'm fine. Ugh. I'm sorry." I shook my head quickly before he could feel awkward. "Never mind. I don't know why I am." When I looked away from him again to hide my blush, it took a few seconds before I felt Peeta's hands curl around the skin of my bare hips from behind.

"You know, life would going to be really interesting in twenty years if we have to do this every time," he said truthfully, breath tickling the back of my neck.

I pondered for a second over the feeling of Peeta's fingers undoing the button of my jeans, and I the funniest realization. His arms were around me. I could feel his naked torso pressing against mine from behind. He was _taking off my clothes_, for crying out loud, but he wasn't…how do I word it? He was just doing it simply because I was nervous. He wasn't trying to be seductive or at all passionate in any way. He was just simply taking off my clothes.

I was momentarily baffled and almost didn't realize when I was getting nudged into the large shower. When I blinked back at Peeta in mild surprise he just grinned and rolled his eyes.

Wordlessly, I just shuffled into the shower and turned the water to warm, trying to ignore the fact of my blatant nudity.

As I let the water run over my head, I leaned against the cold tile side of the shower, casting my mind back to before we were abducted. In particular, the months Peeta and I spent in District Thirteen.

I remembered how it felt laying huddled in a group in some giant underground vault while a war raged on above us, held in Peeta's shaking arms. I remembered what it felt like to look around all the sleeping people, knowing that I was the one President Snow was looking for. As long as I was alive, he was going to be killing my friends.

So I left and turned myself in.

I got myself so wounded I couldn't even be considered _alive_.

Everyone thought I was dead.

I spent months and months in solitude while everyone thought I was dead, in a hospital, doing nothing but staring up at the ceiling _wishing_ I was.

When I came back I was about to kill myself… Peeta saved my life.

I remember the day after he saved me, waking up, having a mental breakdown as usual. And there was something…something he said to me.

"Katniss,"

It came back to me suddenly in much more detail than I would have thought. The promise.

"_Katniss," _

I whipped my head around, abruptly brought back to reality and found Peeta standing in front of me. Water was streaming down both of our naked bodies. Peeta had his eyebrows furrowed at me with worry.

"Yes?" I wiped water out of my eyes and stood up straight—I'd been leaning heavily against the shower wall.

Peeta shook his head. "That's the second time you've done that. You just…blink out. It's like you turn off and are just in another world for a few minutes. It scares me."

"I'm sorry," I said honestly, crossing my arms with embarrassment. "I don't meant to."

"…That's alright." He reaches over and pulls my hair out of my face, draping it over my left shoulder. "What were you thinking about?"

I was silent for a few minutes, staring past the spray of water, and found that I was no longer uncomfortable with me and Peeta in the shower. It felt normal, and, to be honest, I was kind of glad to have his company to share after such a thought I had.

"Well…" I picked at the sealing between the tiles on the wall next to me. "Remember four years ago? When we saw each other for the first time since I…left District Thirteen?"

"That's a little vague, but yes." He frowned. "You, uh…threatened to throw yourself off a cliff. Not something I like remembering."

"Yes, but, the morning after," I said hastily. I didn't like remembering that, either. "When we woke up and I had one of those breakdowns I usually had back then… And then you made me promise something. Remember?"

Staying silent for a few seconds, Peeta reached over to grab a bottle of shampoo and filled his palm with it. Without speaking, he put it on my head and began absentmindedly washing my hair.

"…Remember?" I pressed.

He stood next to me under the spray and wiped a stream of soap from my forehead. "…I remember. I made you promise that no matter how bad things got, and if we were apart… I made you promise to never forget that I love you."

"…And that I always have you to come back to. Funny, because you used the exact words, 'even if I haven't seen you for three years.'" I turned my face up to look at him. "I don't know, but those years, it was somehow easier to cope. Maybe it was Forest, but I don't know. I knew you were waiting, even if—" My throat closed up. The feeling was still there, waiting just below the skin. My life in the Capitol. It gnawed at my heart painfully.

There was no noise except for the low hiss of the water hitting the opposite side of the shower.

Then Peeta reached over to turn the shower off. Never mind the fact that we hadn't actually cleaned ourselves. I said nothing and just crossed my arms over my chest again and watched as he stepped out. When I shuffled through the puddle of draining water to the shower door, I saw he was standing in front of it holding out a towel for me, as he did every other time we did this.

Wordlessly, I accepted and folded it around me. The ache was getting worse inside. Though I did my best not to let myself cry, I had to work very hard not to bring on the hiccups as I shuffled past Peeta into our room to pull some pajamas from the wardrobe. Without thinking much, I pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a clashing top that had worn black buttons all the way down. I didn't even bother putting underclothes on under the PJs.

"Katniss," Peeta stepped out of the restroom next to me, already his own pajama bottoms, and tried to get my attention. He'd stayed a few extra minutes in there. Probably to wait to see if I'd come back.

I turned my face away from him and tried to take a controlled breath. He noticed me shaking.

"Oh, Katniss," Peeta murmured sympathetically, putting his arms around me.

I was folded into him; my head tucked against his neck, my fingers curled between us, Peeta holding me with his arms reaching all the way around my torso. He smoothed my wet hair back with gentle hands. We were both silent for a few minutes.

Peeta turned his head to lightly kiss the skin right in front of my ear. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" he whispered.

I took a breath but it trembled with silent sobs. "I-I want to, but…I just… I can't."

He waited, still holding me.

I didn't say anything else.

"You can't keep it bottled for the rest of your life." Peeta cupped his hand on the side of my face, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. "I know you, Katniss. You're a strong woman. I know you're strong, but seeing you like this… Keeping it all inside is hurting you."

Silence.

He pressed his lips to my forehead and I could feel his lips move as he spoke. "I know you said you don't want to talk about it yet, but I think it'll help."

"What's there to talk about?" I hiccupped into Peeta's bare chest. "You know the story."

"I don't want you to tell me the story." With a finger, he let it trace down my face and down my collarbone onto the exposed skin over my heart. "I want you to tell me what you're feeling. Stories don't do anyone good. It won't let anything out; it won't make you feel better. I want you to let out what you're bottling up, whatever it is."

"I _can't_ let it out." I buried my face against my palms. "I _can't_ tell you. You won't… You w-won't…like it."

"I won't say anything, I promise. In fact, I want you to wait right here while I go downstairs real fast, alright, love?" Peeta took my hands between his and kissed our entwined fingers tenderly. "Just wait right here."

And just like that, he was gone.

I folded my arms across my chest and squeezed, shoulders hunched, and shivered. Now that it was brought to my attention it wouldn't leave. Flashes of the past four years shot through my head like bullets, along with what I _felt_. I couldn't tell Peeta how I felt, I _couldn't_. He wouldn't believe me. He'd hate me. I can't tell him.

I was still shivering and clutching myself when Peeta returned a few minutes later. He slid a mug of searing, reddish tea into one of my hands and took the other. I said nothing as he sat me down on the bed, tucked all of the covers up to my chest and created a throne around me out of pillows. He crawled in with me and slipped into bed with me, putting one of his arms around my shoulders and draped the other over my stomach.

It was like a little throne of pillows and blankets, with hot tea and Peeta warming me from the inside.

Peeta brushed my hair behind my ear. "Now, please, talk. I promise you right now I won't be mad at anything you say. I won't judge you, I won't get upset. I won't say anything at all." He tightened his grip a little and I slid a little further into our throne. "You can pretend you're alone, whatever you like. I just want you to get it out. Start wherever you like. Start with after I left, or even at the beginning."

My eyes began stinging. "…Peeta, I c—"

"You have to. If you're going to get over this, you need to let it out."

I shook my head painfully. "I can't…"

"Please." Peeta brushed one of his fingers against my skin and I let out an inadvertent shudder. "Just let it out."

It took me a while.

I waited.

Two, five, ten minutes.

My tea cooled, but I only could drink one sip before feeling sick.

Fifteen minutes.

I began my story.

I told him everything, leaving out no part, starting at the day I woke up after getting captured.

It all came back to me vividly and very painful.

Seeing Gale for the first time after his "death".

His speech, our fight, my drinking.

The first doctor's appointment, when I ran.

Elizabeth telling me where he was.

Finding Peeta.

I paused for a few minutes, catching up with myself, breathing in and out. Then I started again at after he left.

After that, there wasn't much else to tell.

I started with Forest's birth. How the only thing I could think about laying there in bed crying was how I wanted him to be with me, holding my hand instead of Gale.

And then seeing Forest for the first time and Gale's reaction.

For Peeta's sake, I described what of his birthdays I could, and how Forest grew up, but like Peeta had said earlier, he didn't want the story. He wanted _me_, my heart, my thoughts, my feelings.

Once I told him all about Soldier Steiner and coming back home, I wasn't sure where to go.

So far, Peeta had stuck to his word and hadn't said anything. I glanced up to see his expression and it was somewhat blank, absorbing everything I said. When he didn't look back at me after a few minutes, I brought my gaze back down to my mug of tea.

"You wanted me to talk to you," I whispered through a hoarse throat. "You wanted something other than a story to…to make me feel better. And I said you'd hate me." Swallowing what felt like a mouthful of daggers, I looked back up at Peeta with frightened tears in my eyes. "I'm not angry at Gale."

Despite his blank, emotionless face, I saw Peeta's cheek muscle jump, but he kept frozen, letting me finish.

"I'm not angry at Gale," I repeated. "Even after he kidnapped us. Even after we fought. Even after keeping us apart, I'm not angry at him. Because he's not…a bad person."

Still no response from Peeta.

"All of those things were _my_ fault," I continued. It had begun rolling from my tongue automatically, pouring out. I felt like a stone falling down a hill, clumsy and bumpy at first, but then gaining speed and confidence near the end. I took another breath. "It was _my_ idea to make a run for it. _I_ was the one who got drunk. I didn't tell you this before, but I kind of…I was the one who jumped Gale, not the other way around. I'm sorry. I…I made a mistake."

I started to cry. My tea had to be set down on the nightstand so I could bury my face in my hands and weep, fat tears rolling between my fingers and onto the covers.

Peeta rubbed my back slowly, almost unsurely, but I didn't want to look up to see his reaction.

After a few minutes I was able to stop my sobs and continue, but with a much less stable attitude.

"I was horrid to him, Peeta. Absolutely horrid. I gave him hell about everything he did when he had no choice. He was trying to make it easy for me. He put up with me and _still_ loved me."

I mopped at my eyes with the hem of my PJ shirt. "You hadn't told you this yet, but… But a week before Forest's second birthday I overheard him and General Sawyer talking. He was never planning on letting me go; he'd just hoped that I would have already changed my mind or something. But even after that! Even after that, I forgave him."

Peeta's hand briefly clenched into a fist on my back, but I kept going.

"I forgave him because I know what it's like to love someone. You'd do anything. _Anything_." It must be pretty hard for Peeta to understand this, but I did my best explaining my feelings. "I love _you_, Peeta, and if you wanted us to…to move to District One and become shoe cobblers named Helga and Pappy, I'd do it just because I love you. I know love is…it's like a sickness. It'll make you do crazy things but it's still _love_, something more raw and more true than anything in the world."

Pause.

"I don't love Gale. I know I never will. But the least I can do is respect his feelings and know that deep inside of him there's a reason for all of his actions." I swallowed. "I didn't have to be such an asshole about him loving me. Now, I'm just… I'm starting to think that maybe it was just President Snow I hate. Not the whole Capitol."

There was a period of silence.

It started out lasting only five minutes, but then it stretched on.

I didn't look up at Peeta.

I didn't even move.

Eventually, the pressure was killing me and I got off the bed to lock myself in the restroom.

Peeta didn't knock.

I came out on my own terms and saw him laying there in the exact position he had been in when I left. When I looked at his face, I saw that it was streaked with soundless tears.

He looked shocked.

Heartbroken to the utmost degree.

I went over and crawled onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, resting my head on his chest.

"I love you, Peeta. And…I'm sorry. I never meant to-to hurt you."

Carefully, I stretched up to kissed the corners of both of his eyes and tasted salt. When he still didn't move or speak, tipped my head down to press my lips against his, hoping for some kind of reaction. Any kind of reaction.

He kissed back, but just barely. I felt his hands sneak around to cradle me.

"…I love you, too, Katniss." His voice sounded aching, but the honesty and passion set behind it was more than I could bear.

I'd hurt him.

Feeling tears of my own glide down my cheeks, I reached up to kiss him again. And for a while, that's all we did. Sitting there in the same position, lips pressed against each other's, eyes fluttered closed.

And then his fingers found the buttons of my shirt.

I didn't stop him.

Our bodies shifted in unison, pulling my back against the pillows and Peeta poised above me, bending over the shapes of my legs and stomach and shoulders.

I kept my arms around his neck, hands tangled in his hair, waiting for him to get the last button, and when he did, my top fell open. Peeta shut his eyes tight and a tremble ran up his spine.

"Are you mad at me?" I whispered against his throat. "Because it's okay if you are."

Peeta pressed the side of his face against mine. "…I'm not mad at you."

I struggled slightly to slide my loose top off of my shoulders, and when I did, I sat up against the pillows, curving my body under his. "Are you okay with this?"

He seemed to be driven mad, fingers sliding over my belly and chest and sides, but his face was still against mine, lips barely touching my ear. "I'm okay with it."

"Are you wearing…?" I felt heat creep into my cheeks. "I mean, I-I don't know if…"

"Don't worry." Peeta kissed my forehead gently. "I've got us covered."

Not trusting myself, I just nodded and brought our mouths together so I didn't have to think anymore.

Under the light of the moon shining through the window, Peeta and I tangled ourselves and spent the rest of the night in each other's arms, not waiting up for my bottled memories as they floated away into the darkness.


	20. Chapter 20

_This chapter is undoubtedly going to have an innuendo or two or five. Hohohoho I'm already giggling…_

_Oh, and to answer a question, Forest is three and a half years old. When it was a week before his 2__nd__ birthday or something, it skipped ahead a bit. :D I'm sorry for the confusion. _

_(Oh, and I have a BAND for this story. It is the Great Lake Swimmers. They have the most gorgeous, soft, wonderful music I've ever heard. Songs like, "I Saw you in the Wild" and "Song for Angels" and "To Leave it Behind" and "Falling Into the Sky" just fits everything so perfect. It makes me almost SAD.)_

**oOo**

It was a few hours before Peeta and I both agreed to sleep, but something had slipped into my mind and wouldn't leave. No matter how hard I tried to fall asleep, I couldn't. Not with that tugging at my mind.

"Hey, Peeta?" I asked, voice slurred with exhaustion, using the last of my energy to look up at him.

He was already half-asleep, but managed to get out, "…Hm?"

"Before the Quarter Quell…after Gale got whipped, I spent the night in the kitchen. But you made me go to bed. You…" My words were interrupted by a huge yawn splitting my throat. "…you…you said something to me. Remember?"

"'M tired of rememberin' tonight, Katniss..."

"We were up in my bedroom and you were about to leave me so I could sleep, and I…I told you to stay." I yawned again. "But you said something. I didn't catch it before I fell asleep. You remember that, Peeta?"

He thought for a long time.

I'd thought he'd fallen asleep, but when he rolled his head onto his other shoulder, lips not quite touching my skin. "Always…"

Was that what he'd said?

I didn't have any time to mull this over at all before getting pulled under to sleep.

**PEETA'S POV**

When I woke, it was to noise outside. At first I thought I was dreaming the sounds of people—shouting, laughing, talking into radios—but when I opened my eyes, I knew that I wasn't asleep. That didn't mean I had to get up, though.

Letting out a contented sigh from my nose, I tightened my arms around Katniss, who had her back up against my chest, and rested my head on hers. She was so peaceful when she sleeps, not scowling, not biting her lip or looking guilty for something that wasn't her fault. I was actually surprised she was sleeping longer than I had; normally I was the one sleeping in, but she was completely dead to the world.

Last night… What was there to say about it?

She had me in shock, and perhaps she thought I was upset at her or something because she just went and let me… But I didn't like thinking about that. Definitely not. I just focused in on the fact that even after four years of not doing it, it came back very fast.

Like riding a bike. Except more like…loving a woman. Two very different things.

I _still_ didn't know what to think about everything… When she came in two days ago Katniss had caught me on one of my bad days. Almost quite literally making me wet my pants with shock (thankfully not, though). I'd never been particularly religious, but the first thought that came to my mind when I saw her was, _Oh thank God, she's alive_. I wanted to disappear inside of her right then and never come back out, taking years just to reassure myself that she wasn't a mirage.

And then Forest. He really _did_ look like me. But he had Katniss' eyes, minus the color. They were the same shape and rimmed with the same thick lashes and had the same set of stubborn brows that could curl so easily into a scowl. It was absolutely precious. I had thought there wasn't enough love left in me for anyone but Katniss.

I made room.

Katniss stirred in my arms and I felt her take a sleepy breath against the crook of my right elbow.

"Mm, are you hearing that?" she asked me in a mumbled voice, not lifting her head or opening her eyes.

"Yeah. I'm not too worried. There's no reason to get out of bed yet." I pressed my lips against the side of Katniss' neck and squeezed her tighter.

"…But Forest—"

"—is safe with your sister. Really, Katniss, calm down."

When I lifted my hand to brush her hair out of her face she finally opened her eyes and looked up at me. I could never get enough of the sparkly shade of grey her eyes were; I could stare at them forever. Right then they were a little tired-looking, but other than that, 90% happy. The other 10% meant she was still thinking about what we were talking about before we…went to bed.

Wordlessly, Katniss turned onto her other side to face me and put a hand under her cheek.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, rubbing my thumb subconsciously on the bare skin of her hip. "Better?"

We both knew what I meant by "better." She'd sort of…lost it. It broke my heart just seeing her so distant and forlorn, but there was another degree—a _physical_ degree—of it all which really scared me. She'd had a history of…okay, I'll say it: suicide. If it got bad enough… If she'd spent any more time in the Capitol... I knew that Katniss was the strongest person I knew, but everyone has their breaking points, and when you were always bent so far…

She nodded slightly and put her cheek on my collarbone. "I suppose, yes. And…thank you."

"For what?" I had done nothing, even if nothing was my best. I'd always felt so weak compared to her.

"For realizing I wasn't…right. And for not letting me be a butt about it anymore. For not being mad at me." A blush crept up onto her perfectly angled cheekbones and I saw the embarrassed shine in her eyes, which had averted themselves. "And for…you know…"

No matter how serious the conversation got, I somehow always managed to put a grin on and tickle my fingers across her stomach. "And you say _I'm_ the perverted one. Jeez, woman. How come I can't joke about sex and you can?"

I'd done it.

Katniss cracked a grin as well and hid her face in my hair to stop me from seeing her go beet-red.

"I'm glad you can smile again." I kissed her nose and laced my fingers on the small of her back. "It makes me happy. Even if I had to stray out of the G-zone."

"You always stray out of the G-zone," she mumbled, but she was still smiling. A lot. "But yes, I feel a lot better."

"Did you get it all out?"

There was silence, and I gently rubbed one of my hands across her back. Then Katniss looked up at me. Her eyes were a lot happier.

"…Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did. Thank you, again." Her smile was radiant and—dare I note it?—mischievous. "I am _much_ better today."

"Is that because we—?"

Katniss let out a loud laugh, rolling away from me and wrinkling up her nose. When I tried taking her back, she squirmed away and wrapped the outside blanket around her chest, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "Stoppit, I need to shower."

"No you don't." I caught her around the waist and sucked her back inside of our nest, wrapping my arms securely around her waist and curling myself around her. "You need to stay with me. Under here."

"While a party goes on outside?" Katniss tried escaping my grip but it didn't work. "Let me go! I need to use the restroom!"

"No you don't." I buried my face in her neck again.

"I'm serious!" She let out another giggle and managed to twist out of my arms. "You don't want me to pee in your bed."

"You did a lot worse than pee on it last night."

"PEETA MELLARK." Katniss grabbed a pillow and stuffed it into my face, laughing, and stood up with the sheet still half-around her. "You're terrible."

"I know." I grinned at her from over the pillow. "Can I come?"

Through the exasperation and annoyance on Katniss' face, I saw a lot of enjoyment, which made me happy.

"Only if you behave," she made me promise, and let go of the blanket around her to sneak into the bathroom.

We didn't go down the stairs in a lot of clothes. After showering, I'd just tossed on a clean pair of undershorts and tried not to watch too intently as Katniss pulled on a bathrobe without any underclothes. Without bothering to put any more clothes on, I waited until Katniss had tied the strap on her robe before putting my arm around her and escort her downstairs.

"I really _do_ wonder what's going on outside," Katniss said as we got to the last step. She ran a hand through her hair and took a step towards the nearest curtain-covered window. "If they're—"

Suddenly, there was a hurried knock from the front door, followed by some shuffling.

I quickly ran to answer it, forgetting I was only in my undershorts. Katniss folded her arms on her robed body self-consciously and took a couple curious steps closer to see who it was.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you two like this." It was Mother, of course. "Things are insane outside." She thanked me for letting her step inside and then Primrose came in shortly after, holding Forest by his hand.

Upon seeing Katniss, Forest tugged his hand out of Prim's and ran over to her, leaping up in her arms. "Mama!"

I watched as Katniss scooped our son up and squeezed him, kissing his little cheek a few times. "My little Forest, how was Grandmother's house? Did you behave yourself?"

Forest nodded vigorously, face split into a tiny-toothed smile. "We stayed up ALLLL night!"

Katniss glanced up at her sister with an eyebrow raised and Prim shook her head.

"We were only up until ten."

Giving our son another kiss, Katniss set him down and patted his cheek. "How about you go say hi to your daddy while I talk to Grandmother, okay?"

Forest didn't object. Letting out a happy squeal, he skipped over to where I was and reached up his hands to be held.

Without even thinking, I swung him up in my arms.

But he was confused. "Daddy, your clothes are all gone!"

Of course, there was the inevitable rush of pinkness to mine and Katniss' cheeks.

Ms. Everdeen gave both of us a look as though she didn't notice us being half-clothed and raised her eyebrows with surprise.

"Oh, goodness, I'm sorry," she said, blushing, and took Forest from me. "You two aren't even— Never mind. Why don't you go upstairs and finish changing and I'll make you some breakfast?"

Forest and Primrose giggled while Katniss and I agreed sheepishly and went upstairs to put on some real clothes.

A while ago I'd caught on to the closeness of our family. Obviously, Katniss and I didn't care about our lack of clothing (though that is only to be expected), but Primrose and Ms. Everdeen didn't seem to ever care either. They didn't even seem to notice that Katniss and I were only half dressed. We were odd that way, but I didn't really pause to wonder why. After you'd nearly died together several times together one doesn't really get bothered by things like that.

"You were wrong, you know," Katniss said to me while dressing. "You said they wouldn't come."

I glanced over at her while strapping on my belt to raise an eyebrow. She was grinning.

"…Well, thank goodness we decided to wear _something_ downstairs instead of nothing at all," I noted with a wink, and we both laughed a little. "Poor Forest."

"He used to run around naked all the time before," Katniss rolled her eyes and grabbed a T-shirt from inside the dresser. "He's turning out to be such a hypocrite, just like his daddy."

"What? I'm not a—"

She silenced me with a small kiss, and I saw in her eyes that she was just playing around. "You're not that much of a hypocrite."

"I'm not anything of a hypocrite."

"Okay."

We finished dressing and padded downstairs in bare feet and were rewarded with the overpowering smell of bacon. It made my mouth water.

When Katniss and I got to the kitchen I opened the door for her and we went in. The crackled of frying meat and the slight hum of boiling water met us, along with Forest giggles as he sat with Prim at the table.

"That smells _wonderful_, Mother," Katniss praised, plopping onto the chair and crossing her legs under her. "Thank you for making us breakfast."

"You guys haven't eaten yet, have you?" Ms. Everdeen asked, sliding a few pieces of bacon onto a plate.

When we shook our heads she smiled kindly and set the plate in the middle of us.

The toaster dinged and she added a few pieces of toast and a jar of jam next to the bacon. "The tea should be done in a minute."

We gorged ourselves (I tried not to laugh at Katniss as she tried to make Forest eat neater), soon joined at the table by a pot of tea and Katniss' mother.

"So, what's going on out there?" I asked eventually after my second piece of jelly toast. "People don't normally come this direction."

For the first time, Ms. Everdeen looked troubled and set down her teacup to lace her fingers on the table. "…Well, I'm not 100% sure, but…"

"It's District Thirteen, isn't it?" Katniss interrupted, putting on a disgusted face. "I knew they'd come eventually."

Her mother let out an annoyed sigh and pressed her fingers onto her temples. "Yes, but I didn't think they'd come so _soon_."

"News travels fast," I pointed out.

"So it _is_ District 13?" Katniss sighed as well, putting her palm on her forehead. "I don't want…"

I saw the look in her eyes the same as the one she had last night. Fear, dread, even guilt. I reached over and squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"So exactly _what_ is going on? Do you know?"

Ms. Everdeen looked kind of helpless and shrugged. "I'm not completely sure, but there are two parked hovercrafts and people wandering around in black suits and earbuds. I didn't see any camera crews or anything, but I had a feeling that would come later."

Almost as if planned, all of us got up and shuffled over to the nearest window to peek out. Only one of the hovercrafts was visible, but it was still _there_, and there was about four people standing outside of it, talking amongst themselves. Only a few of them seemed to be looking our way, but the rest looked fidgety and impatient.

"It seems as though their waiting for someone," Katniss observed, looking back at me. "Who do you think it is?"

I already had an idea.

She wouldn't like it.

Frowning, I went to sit back down and they all followed. Forest climbed into my lap, oblivious of everyone's change of mood, and began gnawing on another piece of bacon making strange animal noises.

"You think it's Coin, don't you?" Katniss asked. It wasn't even a question. When she saw my frown deepen even further she rubbed her eyes. "I don't feel like talking to anyone today…"

"You don't have to, you know," I tried telling her for the millionth time. "Not until you're ready."

She gave me a cynical look. Both of us knew that she used up just about all of her energy last night telling _me_. I squeezed her hand again.

Letting my hand go, she stood up and walked over to the window again to look out, brows furrowed and beautiful lips turned down into a frown. "…I didn't w—Oh!" She pressed her hands up against the window, eyes widened. "Is that—?"

I grabbed Forest and rushed over next to her and arrived just in time to see the sky above the treetops shimmer before a bust of wind bend the trees down and a hovercraft appeared. It had a huge number **13** on the side and looked a lot more impressive than the others parked out front.

"That would be Coin, I'm guessing," I said dryly, and then held Forest a little tighter. "Should we let her in? I don't—"

"I don't want Forest to be exposed to anything of that sort," Katniss said fiercely, leaning closer to us protectively. "He's too young."

Primrose stepped up and tugged on a piece of her hair unsurely. "I can take him into one of the spare rooms and—"

Someone knocked on the door.

I gave Forest to Prim without a second though and mouthed "thank you" before wrapping my arm around Katniss' waist tightly and letting Ms. Everdeen answer the door.

From our spot in the kitchen we could hear a deep, business-like voice responding to Katniss' mother at the door. Though we couldn't understand exactly what either of them were saying, I had a feeling. A few more exchanged words and then we could hear someone shuffle outside the kitchen's closed door.

Ms. Everdeen appeared in front of it, looking nervous but not exactly _worried_. "There's, um…someone here to see you two." She patted Katniss cheek reassuringly. "Go on. I'll make some more tea." Eyebrows creased, she passed us and busied herself at the stove.

Before going out, I kissed the top of Katniss head and opened the door again for her. We went out unsurely, not knowing what we'd find.

There were three people. Two of them were men, standing up on either side of an armchair in dark suits and official expressions that were neutral and steadfast. Between them in the armchair was what I guessed to be President Coin. I wasn't sure what to think about her.

Coin's posture was impeccably vertical, as was her grey shoulder-length hair pointed like needles to the padded shoulders of her suit. Eyebrows appeared plucked to death above eyes the color of a corpse; gray and seemingly lifeless. Coin's lips were pursed into a nearly-invisible, colorless line. Everything about her was severe, from her hair to her face to her suit to the way she held her hands on her lap.

Okay, I changed my mind; I knew what to think about her. She scared me.

I felt Katniss tense in my arm and I brought her closer automatically.

When President Coin saw us her narrowed her eyes and tilted her pointed chin up. "…So there you are. I finally get to meet the famous Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen."

I was too afraid to correct her and say that Katniss' last name was no longer Everdeen. We were still silent.

"I don't see why I haven't before," she continued in her slightly clipped, stern voice. "Come sit down, or do you plan on hovering there?"

Wordlessly, Katniss and I went to sit down on the couch in front of the armchair.

Just then Ms. Everdeen came back and set a tray on the coffee table, which held a full teapot and dainty teacups. Coin helped herself.

"Now," she said, sipping her tea, "would either of you like to guess why I'm here, or are you mute as well as uninformed?"

She was really starting to get on my nerves, but to save Katniss, I cleared my throat.

"I'm assuming, President, that you're here because Katniss went missing for four years?" I said in an unintentionally sour tone. "Just a guess."

Coin's flinty eyes moved over to me and pierced me like daggers. "Mr. Mellark… Should I ignore your distasteful attitude and just say that you are right?"

I didn't say anything.

"In any case," she set her teacup down, "you are correct. This is not just something to ignore. I had my best in the Criminal Department and Security Officers on the case after so many victors vanished, but the answer seemed to lie with you two."

Katniss trembled a little in my arms and I did my best comforting her without words but it did little. I wasn't comforted, either.

"At first I'd planned on having you protected at all costs but after you vanished and everyone else came back, what I had to do was simple." Coin put her hands on her knees and leaned towards us, narrowing only one eye, which was frightening. "All of the answers would come if I waited things out."

Katniss seemed about to explode, shaking and breathing hard as she clenched her fists closed over and over. "So you _kept_ me there? As an _experiment_?"

"Don't get so upset, Ms. Everdeen," Coin said stiffly, waving this off. "I interviewed most victors that had returned and none of them seemed to know what was going on. Seemed to be almost _drugged_. What else could I have done?"

"You could have gotten me out of there!" Katniss nearly yelled, standing up.

President Coin looked as though she could have hissed. "Sit down, child, and don't raise your voice at me."

Katniss sat and gripped my hand so hard I thought it would break.

"Yes," Coin continued, "I could have gotten you out of there, but it wouldn't have solved anything. It wouldn't have answered any questions. What I did to you was not an experiment, though. I had everything monitored and under control."

"If you had everything _monitored_, wouldn't that have answered your questions?"

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'seeing isn't believing', Ms. Everdeen?" The president leaned forwards again. "And before you yell at me again I'm going to point out that I couldn't have just pulled you right out of there. Rescuing someone from the very heart and attention of the Capitol isn't as easy as it may seem."

"Four. Years." Katniss gritted her teeth. "You let me suffer for _four years_."

"No." Coin pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. "What happened to you wasn't completely in my hands."

"You just said—!"

"I know what I said." She shook her head, wrinkling her nose as if she just tasted something unpleasant. "You are starting to aggravate me, girl. Let me get a few things clear: one, if things had gone my way, you wouldn't have been captured at all. I didn't send you to the Capitol. I didn't keep you there. If it was a conscious decision the entire country would hate me because no one wants their idol in danger. Obviously.

"Two, believe it or not, I didn't know it was the Capitol until the second year. I had gone along with everyone else and claimed you dead. Until, of course, some idiots in one of my investigation departments put two and two together and figured it out. After that we knew where to find you. Just not how.

"Three, I had no idea how things were going on there without Snow." President Coin poured herself some more tea and leaned back in her armchair, looking very smug. "That is where you come in."

"I'm not telling you anything," Katniss said through clenched teeth. "You could have gotten me _out of there_! It was _your_ fault!"

"Lower your _voice_, you ignorant girl!" Coin had her own voice raised and it was booming across the house. "And do _NOT_ talk to your elders like that!"

"Don't talk to _her_ like that!" I stood up, balling my fists and giving Coin the nastiest look I could muster. "She doesn't have to tell you anything if she doesn't want. You can treat her with respect or _leave_."

Just like that, most of the tension was released and both Coin and I sat down.

"I see you're still loyal to Ms. Everdeen," the president said coolly, eyeing me with her stony, pale eyes. "Could it be nothing had changed over the years? You've not found someone else that, perhaps, treats you better?"

I held Katniss' hand and tried not to blow up again. "Katniss treats me better than I deserve," I growled, "and nothing anyone can do will change my feelings for her. And if you're here to wonder if we still love each other than you're wasting your time."

Coin raised her thin eyebrow again. "No, that wasn't my reason. I was merely curious."

"Then you'd better tell us why you're in our house or you can show yourself out."

Though she looked at me with the utmost loathing I'd ever seen in one single person's eyes, President Coin did not reprimand my lack of respect for her. "…I'm here to set a meeting date to bring you two to District 13 and discuss what went on there in the Capitol."

"Absolutely not." I sat back against the couch and let go of Katniss' hand to wrap my arm around her waist. She seemed very quiet and indignant, but held her body in a rigid, strong position. "She doesn't have to do that if she doesn't want."

"That is for her to decide, Mr. Mellark." Coin turned her steely gaze down to Katniss. "Obviously, this cannot go unnoticed. If you want to keep the same pattern of kidnappings from repeating, we need to know everything."

There was a long silence.

"…I'm not going to tell you everything," Katniss finally said, her voice just barely above a whisper. "But I'll tell you what you need to know."

I looked down at her in shock, but she didn't look up.

Coin looked triumphant, and stood up, motioning for her body guards to get ready to leave. "That's excellent. I will send a hovercraft for you next Tuesday at ten in the morning."

"Peeta's going to."

She turned her stare up at me and pursed her lips.

"And my mother, sister and son."

Though the shock in Coin's eyes was obvious, she said nothing to the mention of Katniss' child and stood a little straighter.

"Very well. You all are expected to be up and ready to leave by ten. Good day." Turning on her heel, President Coin walked briskly out of our house and slammed the door behind her.

The second she was gone I gathered Katniss onto my lap and held her tight to my chest as she tried not to cry. I could hear the tears in every breath she tried to steady herself with.

"It's okay, love. Things will be fine," I told her, as I did every time I comforted her, but realized that I might need comforting as well. It was equally traumatizing for both of us, I thought.

Still trembling, Katniss pressed bunches of my shirt into her eyes and shook her head. "…Thank you. For…sticking up for me."

"I'll always stick up for you," I told her, and pressed my lips against the top of her head. "She was being completely out of line."

Katniss let out a shaky laugh. "That's one way to put it."

"Come on," I stood up and helped her up after me, not letting go of her hand. "You okay? I mean…as okay as you could be?"

She sucked in a breath and nodded. "Yes. I think."

It was only then I noticed Ms. Everdeen was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded and eyebrows creased with worry.

When I met her eyes she shook her head a little.

"...I overheard what you guys were saying," Katniss' mother said. "I'm sorry. That was…"

Katniss shook her head as well. "That's alright. We were loud enough. I'm going to…to go get Primrose and Forest."

"Are you going to tell them what's going on?"

She sighed. "If they didn't hear us screaming already, yes."

I kissed her head again and let go of her hand as she wandered off down the hall, shoulders hunching with every step she took.

When she was out of sight I took a backwards step closer to her mother.

"That was kind of frightening," I whispered. "No one gets to treat her like that. _No one_."

"It's sweet that you stuck up for her." Ms. Everdeen put her hand on my shoulder. "I'm sure it feels good to have that again after so long of going without."

Biting my lip, I shrugged slightly and ran my fingers through my overgrown hair. "The goes for both of us, I suppose. I just don't know what I'm going to do next Tuesday."

"What you two have always done," Ms. Everdeen blinked sadly. "Take it one step at a time."

It was hard not to laugh. "That doesn't always work, I've noticed."

"But it's a try."

"Yes…" I said absentmindedly, brows beginning to furrow again. "It's a try."

**oOo**

_So, um…it's my birthday. Or was. The 31__st__. I think I want two things: Peeta, and reviews. Can you people get those to me pretty please? It's not every day you turn fifteen! I've already been given Peeta once, but every one of you girls know that once is not enough. Yes, I'm greedy, but when it comes to Peeta…_

_Anyways… REVIEW! And just for grins, I want to see how many of you give Peeta to me for the night. Just out of curiosity. :D_


	21. Chapter 21

_THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU to everyone who reviewed and wished me a happy birthday! I received Peeta five times from Rosa (TheDarkAngelofAwesome), Katannamionestorm, BensterBaby, Twigatha, and my Hannnah (or at least, I think she did…). Writingnow gave me some of Peeta's cookies, but Mellark's Heart wanted to keep Peeta for herself. I don't blame you. But thank you AAALLLLLLLLL for doing that! _

_Best. Birthday. Ever._

_I also wanted to share something… The name Forest? I just remembered when I first heard it and chose it for Peeta and Katniss' kid. I was sitting in Health class and listening to this guy, whose name is Brenner, talk. He's the happiest, most friendly guy I've ever known in my life. He had a twin when he was born named Brenner, but the twin died a few days after they were born. My friend's real name is Forest, but he goes by Brenner in honor of his brother who died before he could know him._

_Isn't that sad?_

_I don't know why I told you that, it just seemed like something I should share with the world. The impact your outlook on life has on people…_

_There might be some sort of Harry Potter reference, one that I simply cannot help but make._

**oOo**

**STILL PEETA'S POV**

The week went by more or less what I'd call normally. Katniss seemed to be extra tensed-up, which I didn't like too much, so I did my best to make things easier for her. Nearly every day I woke up early, cooked breakfast and dressed Forest to let her catch an extra hour of sleep. Though at first she acted guilty, I knew she appreciated it. The only thing I really wanted was for her to be happy.

Even though having Forest over at his grandmother's house gave us a break, I didn't suggest it again because Katniss became visibly more clingy and protective over him. I just did what I could and hoped it was enough.

Monday night I was tucking Katniss in as usual, and as I sat next to her on the bed, she turned her head and opened her eyes to look at me.

"Peeta?"

I rested my chin on my hand. "Hm?"

"…Why are you doing all this for me? You're taking everything so calmly, and yet still managing to be…you know…wonderful." A blush appeared on Katniss' cheeks.

"You're not mentally deranged," I told her, smiling a little, and reached down to brush my finger across her cheek. "And I do it because I care. Does there have to be any other reason?"

She paused for a minute and smiled back. "No, I guess not." Leaning back against the pillows, Katniss closed her eyes again and mumbled into the material, "I love you, Peeta."

"I love you, too." Still smiling, I kissed her temple and stood up. "I have to finish something downstairs, but I'll be up in a bit, okay?"

"Mkay." She was mostly half asleep.

"Sweet dreams," I whispered and left the room.

Out in the hall, I only got halfway down the hearing a small voice came from behind me.

"Daddy?"

I turned to see Forest standing in the doorway of his temporary room (he'd only slept three full nights in it, though) in his pajamas, blond hair messy and rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, Forest," I said softly and went over to him, pulling him up in my arms. "What are you doing up so late, kiddo?"

Forest brought his hand away from his eyes and blinked at me sleepily. "I woke up." He paused for a few seconds and looked at the half-closed doorway of mine and Katniss' room. "Is Mama okay?"

This kind of surprised me. "…Why? Did she tell you she doesn't feel well?"

"No." He shook his head and looked back again. "Mama's just been being sad."

It was hard not to sigh, and I brought my son over to the room and we gazed in. "I don't know, Forest. She's having a hard time."

"Why?"

"She's trying to adjust to life back here. Back home. It's making her stressed out, but she's going to be okay." Despondency weighed on my shoulders as I watched Katniss sleep under the light of the open window. "I know she will be."

"Why?"

A sad smile touched my lips. "Because she's very strong, your mother. She can get through anything."

"And she's beautiful." He grinned happily and slid down from my arms. "May I sleep with you and Mama, Daddy?"

Feeling so much adoration and pride, I wrapped my hands around my son's small fingers and walked with him into my room. Finishing the dishes from dinner could wait.

Forest crawled up onto the bed with my help and snuggled into Katniss' arms with no hesitation. In her sleep, Katniss mumbled something and leaned her forehead against his blond hair. It was precious. Making sure to capture what that looked like for a future painting, I got under the covers after them and scooted as close to my family as I could without disturbing their peace.

Within no time at all, Forest was fast asleep, but I was awake. And so was Katniss, apparently, because after a few minutes passed I opened my eyes again and saw her eyes open as well and looking at me.

"You okay?" I mouthed to her, and she nodded just barely perceptively.

From across the bed I felt her arm curve over Forest and onto mine, where it rested, and she closed her eyes again. Like that, we fell asleep.

Following a surprisingly dreamless night, I opened my eyes to a ray of sun piercing my eyes through the curtains. It seemed to shine directly into my eyes, as if saying, "Wake up, Peeta! The world says hello!" Though I didn't like the burning in my retinas, it was an alright wakeup call, so I sat up and tossed the covers off of me.

Forest and Katniss were still curled up together, sleeping soundly, which was good. To my surprise, not a single night was disturbed by me waking up to Katniss having nightmares. I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not, but I never mentioned it to her because _I_ hadn't had any nightmares either. It was only a matter of time, but I figured if I was enjoying it while it lasted, she probably was as well.

Neither of them woke when I got up to shower. I only spent five minutes in the bathroom, but when I got out, wearing damp jeans and toweling off my hair, Forest was awake and standing next to the foot of the bed.

Upon seeing him, I tossed the towel in the hamper and went to pick him up. "Hey, Forest, what are you doing up so early?" I asked him quietly, as to not wake the sleeping.

"You weren't there," he said simply, and glanced back at Katniss. "Mama's not awake."

"That's okay. Let's let her sleep." After ruffling his hair fondly, I took my son down the stairs for breakfast.

It was a little past seven in the morning, I noticed. Three more hours until the hovercraft got here. I was undeniably nervous. Not for me, but for Katniss. I did my best not to be completely distracted by it all as I sliced fruit on the counter. Forest was sitting at the table, legs swinging from the high chair he sat in. Ironically, we were only downstairs for a few minutes in when I heard the front door open.

Ms. Everdeen and Primrose let themselves in, as usual, and followed the sounds of inhabitance into the kitchen.

"Good morning," I said casually, offering them both some fruit.

Even though it was impossible to get over how much older 19-year-old Prim looked, she made it easier to picture her young again in a frilly yellow dress. Soon she was going to have to start dressing for winter, but she didn't look too cold.

"I take it Katniss is still sleeping?" Prim sat on the table, swinging her legs back and forth exactly like Forest while munching on an orange wedge.

I nodded. "If you want you can go wake her up. Breakfast is almost ready."

She hopped off of the table and skipped out with a cheery, "Okay!"

Pieces of thinly-sliced meat were sizzling on the skillet, just long enough to get brown and be folded artistically onto the bowls of porridge I'd cooked. Thankfully I'd made enough for five instead of just three, so I poured the last of the porridge for Ms. Everdeen and Primrose, and put fruit and meat on them.

Ms. Everdeen helped me set the small table.

"So are you nervous?" she asked while pouring out glasses of milk and handing one to my son.

I shrugged slightly and attempted a laugh. "Yeah. That's a good word for it. Poor Katniss has been really on edge the past few days."

"Well, once it's all over she'll be better." Ms. Everdeen furrowed her brows. "We'll all be."

"MAMA!" Letting out a gleeful squeal, Forest wiggled off of his chair and ran to greet his mother, who'd came in with Prim.

Katniss standing there a few feet away in her nightgown, and scooped our child up in her arms, giving him a couple kisses on the cheek. Her hair was mussed with sleep and her eyes were tired but she looked well enough.

"Good morning." Letting Forest leap from his mother into one of my arms, I took the other and put it briefly around Katniss to pull her into a short good-morning kiss. "Sleep well?"

"Surprisingly."

I could tell she was trying to act casual and as though nothing was bothering her, but I saw that sneaky little glint of worry in her eyes that shifted when she turned away from me, barely concealing how tense she really was.

"Thank you for cooking breakfast." She sat down (as did Prim and her mother) and motioned for Forest to come to her. Wordlessly, I let go of our son and let Katniss tuck a napkin around his neck and set him on the chair next to her. "I'm sorry I sleep so much."

"You need it, Katniss." Letting a small frown crease between my brows, I spun my finger around the edge of my glass of milk while the awkward silence settled in.

It lasted several minutes because Forest spilled his porridge.

Both Katniss and I stood to mop it up.

"I've got it," she said, voice tainted with a sort of sour tone that had come on very rapidly.

"No, it's okay," I insisted.

She snapped. "I've _got_ this, Peeta. I don't need your help." Gritting her teeth and fighting to remain somewhat composed, Katniss swept the porridge into Forest's splattered bowl with a hand and stomped over to the sink to scrub it.

I didn't know what to do. Forest just stared at his mother with a blank, slightly apologetic look on, and then turned his gaze over to me to see if he was in trouble. When I gave him a smile (no matter how troubled it was), he looked very relieved and stayed extra quiet.

When Katniss was done at the sink, she turned back for half a second. A look of guilt flashed across her face and she looked away again, nostrils flaring.

"I'm going upstairs to change my clothes. Be right back."

I watched as she left the room, arms tucked around her chest. There wasn't really anything to say or do except sit in the painful silence.

Prim's eyes met mine and she gave me a look like, _Well? Aren't you going to follow her?_

Should I? There is a time for that and a time to let her be alone. It was nearly impossible discerning the two, but I forced myself to remember what her mother told me. She'd said the same thing to Katniss, ironically…

After all, I was the only one who could truly comfort her at that time.

I stood from the table.

"Where you going, Daddy?" Forest looked up at me with a frothy white milk mustache.

My eyes briefly flicked up to Ms. Everdeen and Primrose and then back down at him. "…To talk to you mother."

"Can I come?"

"No, you stay down here," I said, and then before leaving, added, "I might be a bit."

Upstairs I found Katniss leaning against the wall next to our bathroom door, back to me. It was apparent she hadn't even found clothes to change into. When I came in, she stood straight and turned to meet my eyes.

When a minute passed and neither of us said anything, Katniss cleared her throat.

"I suppose I should apologize for snapping at you…" she said quietly.

"Are you okay, Katniss?"

She looked up, eyebrows furrowed. "…What's that supposed to mean?"

I shook my head. "I don't know… We're going back and forth, me and you. One day it's me having the breakdown and the next—"

"—_I _am, I know." Opening the wardrobe door, Katniss shrugged and said, "I'm just stressed. Not one particular thing is wrong. Once today is over I'll be better."

Strangely, I believed her, but still bit my lip. "…You acted fine last night."

A sad sort of grin reached her lips, but only for a second and then it was gone. "Sometimes I think I _literally_ have something wrong with me. Other times I'm just clueless."

"I hope you're right, you know. About being better after today is over." I tried a smile at her.

Katniss returned my smile with a real one of her own as she took a crimson-colored blazer from the wardrobe. "I know I will be. In fact, if you want, we can ask Mother if she can babysit again."

That's how I knew things were going to be fine. If she was precluding to certain…things, then she must be feeling that terrible. Grinning, I walked over and kissed her forehead. "That sounds alright to me."

"Um…Peeta?" She furrowed her brows and looked up at me with a guilty-looking expression on, mingled with the attempt of a brave demeanor.

"Yes?" I tried taking her hand gently in mine, but she took it back, nervously wringing both of hers together.

"I need to…I need to do this with as little help as possible," she said, wincing as though it was a terrible thing to say. "I'm trying to think of this as some sort of right-of-passage back into District 12."

"What?" I frowned. "That's absurd!"

"I know. But it's the only way you're getting me onto that hovercraft without going mad. I just…" Katniss bit her lip. "I just want to prove to everyone that I'm strong enough without being coddled."

"You don't like me coddling you?" I asked, trying not to pout.

She patted my shoulder reassuringly. "No, I love it, but I'd like to appear a little less dependent of your love when I'm around Coin and her Death Eaters."

I suppressed a snort of laughter. "Alright, then. I'll coddle you when we get back home."

"Thank you. I'll meet you back downstairs, okay?"

"Okay."

Feeling much better, I left our room, closing the door behind me.

Forest met me in the kitchen doorway, reaching up his arms to be held. "Is Mama okay?"

I picked him up and carried him back into the kitchen. "She's going to be just fine," I reassured all three of them.

For a minute Primrose and Ms. Everdeen just sat there looking relieved, right before Ms. Everdeen sprang out of her chair.

"Before I forget," she said, grabbing a pair of scissors from a drawer, "your hair should be freshly trimmed for the meeting."

"Trim" was probably not the right word for it, but I agreed at any rate and put my son down to sit in a chair and get my glorious golden locks hacked off.

It was amazing how much lighter my head felt afterwards. As I was reaching up to feel my new 'do, Katniss came in.

I was shocked.

She looked so...serious.

It frightened me.

Ignoring my goggle-eyed stares, Katniss walked over and curiously ran a hand through my hair.

"You look so much neater," she said not-unkindly. "Like an adult."

I stood and gazed at her sadly. "…So do you. You look so grown-up. Not sixteen anymore."

A tiny blush appeared on her cheeks as Katniss looked down at her slacks-and-blazer ensemble, hair braided tight. Her head shape was less rounded, her cheekbones angled. "…I think I stopped being sixteen a long time ago."

There was a moment when all of us older people looked depressed. Unable to take it anymore, I bent down to pick up my son again.

"Come on, kiddo," I said to him. "Let's get you dressed, too."

Though we did our best to slow time, it did not work, and before we knew it, we were getting escorted out of our own home by a stiff-looking District 13 Official into a cramped, hot hovercraft and had to endure half an hour of Forest singing a mutilated version of the castle song the entire time.

About five minute away, the Official came into the back of the craft to tell us that the meeting doesn't start until three-thirty, and then after it was finished we'd all have dinner there in the room. I couldn't say I was exactly pleased with that, but it was what it was, and there was no use complaining.

In my mind the meeting would be something like the talk Katniss and I had the previous week. She'd tell the story, there would be some questions and then we'd leave. Oddly enough, it was not much like that at all. When 3:30 came and went, Primrose, Ms. Everdeen, Katniss and I (Forest sitting on my lap drawing on a scrap of paper with a crayon) found ourselves seated around a massive oak table with a number of important district officials and many reporters. By the time President Coin arrived and filled the last seat at the end of the table, everyone had gone quiet.

She started out with why we were here, which I thought was unnecessary. She talked about the previously missing victors and when Katniss and I left and when the missing victors came home seeming drugged, and not remembering anything that had happened.

Then she made Katniss the guest of honor, which made neither Katniss nor herself look particularly pleased.

See, what I thought would happen was taking an hour for Katniss to talk non-stop, telling her entire story, but what Coin wanted was slightly different. She asked a question and Katniss would answer it, back and forth.

"We have limited information, Mrs. Mellark, about the people in charge today. In fact, we have limited information on just about everything."

There were pictures displayed on a projector that Coin shared. A blurry picture of a massive structure, which I was told to be the Capitol Building where we were held captive. Katniss confirmed that and then she was asked who was in charge after Snow was killed.

There silence for a while, staring at her hands.

When more than a minute passed when she didn't speak, President Coin cleared her throat, clearly annoyed. "Let's start with something a little easier," she said. "If you weren't ever drugged while there, you remember the faces of the soldiers who captured you, right?"

Katniss bit her lip and nodded, tilted her chin up again and forcing herself to wipe away the anxiety. "The faces are fuzzy, as are the exact names, but I know the name of the General. He was…he _is_ closest to the…the new president."

Everyone leaned in.

"His name is…is General Sawyer. I don't know his first name, but he's incredibly loyal and important to their system. He even has family back in District Twelve." Katniss looked just a little broken.

"And who would that be?" Coin poised her pen above a piece of paper and stared at her with her flinty eyes.

Fighting upset, Katniss looked away from everyone and spoke to her hands. "Caroline and Ivy Sawyer. They live on Stalinbrooke drive, and I don't know if they know anything about…about the General."

"Mm-hm…" After scribbling briefly on her piece of paper, the president of District 13 tapped the end of her pen on the table. "And you said something about the new president there in the Capitol? Have you seen him?"

Visibly gritting her teeth and fighting tears, Katniss nodded once.

"And do you know his name, Mrs. Mellark?"

She nodded again.

Silence.

Coin sighed. "Please be cooperative, Katniss. I need to know the name for the records. If you have it, it would be in everyone's best interest for you to share."

"You wouldn't…" Katniss gripped the tablecloth violently with both hands. Though she was still managing to keep away tears, her body was shaking ever so slightly and I had to resist to urge to reach over and put an arm around her. "You wouldn't believe me."

"That is a different matter, I'm afraid." Coin pursed her lips and folded her thin, bony fingers across the paper. "What I believe and what the truth is could be two very different things. You are the only person who knows, so you can tell me or no one will ever know."

_Except for me, _I thought, but didn't say that.

Katniss still refused to look at anyone or speak.

"Mrs. Mellark. Please."

Silence.

"It would be greatly appreciated if—"

"Gale Hawthorne," Katniss spat, snapping her head up and letting just one clear drop of water sneak from her eyelashes. She was quivering and obviously furious. "Happy now? It's Gale Hawthorne. The one and only."

The surprise struck the room silent for a few seconds before everyone began murmuring to themselves.

Forest looked up at me from where he sat with a curious look on. "Unco Gale?"

Frowning, I just shook my head at him and looked back up at the babbling group.

While everyone whispered amongst themselves, trying to decide the truth to her words, Katniss had put her elbows up on the table and had her head in her hands. It was only until the shrill voice of Coin broke through the noise, everyone hushed.

"_Quiet!_" She looked upset and ruffled, most certainly surprised by the news. When the table fell silent again she pressed her fingers to her temples.

The head on the Security Department, Bartolomu Wite, sighed and cleared his throat. "Though this is shocking to all of us, we must remember we're holding this meeting for other reasons than to sit around talking about the current vocation of Gale Hawthorne."

Katniss suddenly took her hands from her face, eyes appallingly full of hatred. "And what is that reason? Naming soldier and showing pictures of the Capitol building accomplishes _nothing_."

The last syllable of her voice seemed to echo in the room, so sharp and loud it seemed to pierce everyone's attention so well some people even looked guilty. Even President Coin had her lips pursed tight, eyes drilling into Katniss.

It was Mr. Wite who spoke next.

"What do you suggest we do?" he asked in his gravely, worn voice. His tired eyes drooped as they looked almost helplessly at Katniss.

Looking around at almost every other person there, I saw the same looks; worry, confusion, doubt, fear, and a look that could only be described as the search for hope.

I realized something at that moment.

…Katniss was, after all, the symbol of rebellion. She'd been thrust into the heart of the Capitol after it's so-called destruction. She did what few others had done, she'd seen what few others had seen. She was strong and astute and beautiful and more important than she gives herself credit for, like it or not.

Even Coin know that if they wanted something to get done, and if she wanted people to pay attention, Katniss was the way to do it.

She was their only hope.

She was their Girl on Fire.

Katniss knew that. She folded her hands on the table and stared at them, brows furrowed in thought. "…I don't know. I don't know if you want to destroy the whole Capitol or just Gale or _what_."

"She's right," said Jay Triggs, one of the top reporters there at the meeting. He squinted at Katniss with understanding. "Unless it was a scheme plotted by all the Capitol citizens, not everyone should get punished. There are innocent people there who've had nothing to do with anything against _anyone_."

"But should we just ignore their existence?" asked another reporter. "Even after the right punishment for those who are responsible for the kidnapping. Say we _do_ manage to get our hands on…the new president and the general, who'll rule the Capitol?"

"We don't _want_ it ruled, we want it _gone_."

"Not everyone is guilty there! We can't kill innocent people!"

"Well, we can't just deny their existence!"

"We've been doing pretty well so far."

"How about we get Hawthorne, and they can appoint a new president?"

"Why the hell would we do _that_?"

President Coin stood from her seat, looking 20 years older and 10 times stiffer. "Quiet, everyone. This is getting nowhere, and that isn't at all why I even called this meeting."

Katniss leaned back in her seat. "Then by all means, enlighten us."

Coin looked as though she might rip Katniss' head off, but just narrowed her eyes and said, "Do you know why I always win, Mrs. Mellark? I _know_ things. And things I don't know, I find out. You happen to have very valuable information that I want. I am here to hear what you have to tell us."

"And what if I don't want to tell you?"

"Then you're wasting your time here and should leave." Coin nearly bared her teeth. "But you're not going to leave, are you, Katniss? Because ignoring it would be like admitting defeat. All of us are here for reasons that are more or less selfish. Including you. You're here to do something for yourself, too, Katniss. What do you want?"

She laced her fingers under her chin and narrowed her eyes until they almost looked closed. "Do you want information? To see the Capitol's downfall? Satisfaction from telling someone else's' secret? What are you here for, Katniss?"

**KATNISS' POV**

I was there for revenge.

I just couldn't admit that.

Though I knew deep, deep down that I should have been angry at Gale, I was. I was angry because he let me think he was dead. I was angry because he went against his word to lead the target of all our hatred. I was angry that he abandoned me.

I wanted him to eel the way I felt.

Betrayed.

Confused.

Abandoned.

Was revenge such a terrible thing to inflict?

Looking over at Peeta, I saw his eyebrows were slanted worriedly at me, waiting to hear what I was going to say, as everyone else was.

I looked back over at Coin, eyes blank and feeling slightly glazed. "I'm here because you wanted me to be."

She didn't look convinced. "…If that's the case, you wouldn't mind actually cooperating and answering the questions I have."

Feeling tired from the meeting and the stress and from _everything_, I accepted and answered her questions as best as I could, ignoring how much revisiting the memories hurt.

Not many people talked; most were there just to listen and observe. Neither Prim nor Mother said a single word during the entire thing, and Forest only had to use the restroom twice.

Though the mild simplicity of everything was apparent, I felt on the verge of exploding by the time dinner came. I didn't eat or talk, even when I was addressed directly.

At the end, I let myself be dragged out and helped into a hovercraft. It was nearing 8 o'clock and I could barely move. When Peeta, Forest, Mother, Primrose and I were situated in the craft and left District 13, I rested my head on Peeta's shoulder, snuggled up close to him and Forest, and fell asleep.

**PEETA'S POV AGAIN**

I was concerned about Katniss. When we got on the hovercraft, she looked so defeated and worn. I let her rest against me, and before the craft even lifted off the ground, she was asleep. Though I was thankful she got at least twenty minutes of peace and quiet before she woke and was stressed again, I was thankful for those twenty minutes.

Forest dozed off, too, cheek pressed against my bicep.

Half of me was so full of love and happiness for the two people who'd fallen asleep on me. Eyes shining with adoration, I glanced up at Ms. Everdeen and saw her eyes were shining as well. I didn't know why, but I felt inclined to reach across the thin strip of space to lace my fingers with Primrose's. I felt close to her, like she was my real little sister, and loved her just as much.

Prim squeezed back, a smile on her lovely oval face, and put her head on her mother's shoulder.

Linked together like the family we were, the hovercraft carried us across the brisk dusk sky back home.

We landed in front of the Victor's Village at about 8:25 and we everyone was forced to wake up and tumble out of the cramped hovercraft. I felt mean waking Katniss, but she thanked me and held tightly to my hand as the four of us dragged out of the way of the craft as it left again. Before Katniss and I got to our house, however, Ms. Everdeen put her hand on my arm.

"Forest is welcome to stay the night with us, Peeta," she offered gently, and Primrose nodded in agreement.

Though I knew Katniss had mentioned something of the very sort earlier that day, for some reason, I automatically shook my head. "Thank you, but it's alright."

Prim smiled a little again. "…So, we'll see you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early."

We all hugged goodnight, and then I led Katniss up our porch steps.

"We should probably go straight to bed," I told her softly while hanging up our jackets one-handedly on the coat rack by the door.

Katniss rubbed her eyes. "No, I'm okay. Really."

I didn't believe her, but went upstairs anyways, guiding her with a free arm. Thankfully, Forest stayed very fast asleep as I brought him into the room next to mine and Katniss' and tucked him under the blankets. His blond hair fell back onto the pillow like a little blond halo and I bent to kiss his forehead. The inevitable rush of affection for my son came suddenly and I felt so unbelievably lucky to have him. After so long of wanting a child of my own, here he is, so much better than I ever dreamed. So perfect and beautiful and mine. Mine and Katniss'.

Katniss, despite her fatigue, came over, too, and kissed Forest's forehead right after I did.

When we got into our room, she stood in the doorway, eyes drooping, and just furrowed her brows when I asked if she was okay.

"…I've been asked that about eighty times today."

"I know, but I'm just worried about you. You don't look so well." I reached over to touch her wrist, and when she didn't pull back, I took it as a good sign. Looking at the worn, maybe even still distressed, expression on her face, an idea popped up in my head. I smiled at her—the most real smile I could muster—and took a step back. "Hold on, wait there for a minute."

Katniss nodded at me, and I snuck quickly into the bathroom.

In the bathtub I cranked up the faucet, poured in a large amount of some nice-smelling oil, bubble solution, and watched for a second as massive white bubbles foamed up from where the spray hit the surface. Though it was much too girly for me to ever get in, even _I_ admitted it looked inviting, and went back into the room to find Katniss standing right where I'd left her.

"_So_…why don't you go take some time to yourself," I said, taking her hands briefly and leaning our foreheads together. "I've made you a bath, and when you're done I'll have warm towels and a kiss waiting for you, okay?"

For a split second Katniss wore a confused look, but then her face seemed to melt in an overly-relieved expression and she struggled to keep an adoring smile from her face. "…I missed being coddled today."

"See?" I pressed my lips to her forehead. "I told you."

"Yes, you did."

She touched my cheek and left to go take a bath.

My heart felt like it was physically swollen. Though it felt cheesy and cliché thinking it, I was so in love with her and everything about our family. I knew that, no matter how much we were fighting and no matter how bad emotional-wise things got, I would never feel any different.

Something about her smile and the way she bites her bottom lip when she's nervous and the way she tucks her head under my chin at night seemed unreal and so…perfect. I wouldn't have her any other way than how she was.

On the way downstairs I grabbed two giant, fluffy towels.

While they were warming up in the dryer I sat on the couch and let my contentment overtake me for a while.

An hour later, before going up to see if Katniss was okay, I snatched the towels from the dryer. They were toasty warm and soft, and I felt strangely proud as I took them back up.

"Katniss?" I knocked on the bathroom door, the towels draped over an arm. When she didn't answer right away, I knocked again. "Katniss, love, are you okay?"

When things were again silent, some terrible image popped up in my mind of Katniss sunk under the water and—

Trying not to freak out too much, I opened the door and let myself into the bathroom. "Katniss, are y—?"

She wasn't drowned, thank goodness. Her head was leaning against the cold ceramic top of the bathtub, and one arm was draped over the sides, eyes closed from sleep. Little specks of soap were dribbling down her fingers onto the tile floor while half-deflated bubbles floated strategically around to cover up her nudity.

Feeling sympathetic, I set the towels down on the countertop and knelt in front of the tub. This had happened before, and I would pick her up, dry her off, dress her and put her to bed all while she slept away. Strangely, though, the second I tried sliding my arms under her to lift her, Katniss' eyes snapped open and she jerked her head sideways with surprise.

"W—?" Katniss wrinkled her nose and squinted at me. "Peeta?"

I took my hands back out of the water and rested my elbows on the ceramic, smiling kindly down at her. "You fell asleep. I was going to let you stay asleep."

She furrowed her brows, getting over the disorientation of sleep, and rubbed her eyes with a sudsy hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pass out like that."

"Don't be ridiculous," Shaking my head, I stood back up to grab a towel from the counter. "You apologize for the silliest of things. Come on, now." I held the towel out for her.

Naked bodies were no big deal.

Smiling gratefully, Katniss stood as well and let me envelope her in warm material. Not a second after I stepped back, she brought me to her again, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her face against my neck.

Something was different about this embrace. Instead of passion I felt the gratitude and sincerity through her soft, tender skin. Her hands shook ever so slightly where they were curled between my shoulder blades.

I returned the embrace without even thinking, pressing her gently against me, one hand supporting her waist and the other stroking back her wet hair.

"Thank you, Peeta," Katniss said quietly to me.

The breath passing through her lips tickled the hair of my neck, and instead of asking her why, I just touched my lips to her temple. "…You're welcome."

Katniss was such a hard person to read sometimes. I never knew how she'd react to certain things. In my head, after I'd said that, she would pull away and finish toweling off, and then leave me to dress in our room.

But she didn't pull away quite yet. Her hands lifted to cup either side of my face and she pulled my head down to hers. Though our lips didn't meet I could smell her sweet, clean scent and felt her eyelashes fluttering against mine.

"I'm serious, you know." There were stars in her silver eyes. "Thank you."

"I'm serious, too." It was hard keeping the foolish grin off of my face, but I managed, and snuck my fingers around the back of her neck. "You're welcome."

"…You're impossible." A grin lit up Katniss' face and a surge of triumph hit me so hard I wanted to close the distance between us and melt myself against her, tasting the salt of her tongue with my own and never let go.

I gave in.

Katniss didn't disagree.

The kiss was soft and wonderful, not anything more than an "I love you." Her mouth fit mine like a puzzle piece and I let it last just long enough to want more. My heart was soaring by the time I tilted my face up and sucked in a breath. It was not because I was winded, but because I was in awe of how perfect things were.

Katniss didn't say anything.

It was only until I bent down to kiss her neck the silence was broken. "Hey, Katniss?" I asked quietly, using the same tone she always did when she asks me, _"Hey, Peeta?"_ as she did so often.

She caught on and let out a strangled laugh, but it sounded a little breathless. "Hm?"

I trailed my lips a little higher and kissed her again, marveling at the taste of her skin. "I think I love you."

This time her laugh wasn't breathless. It was one of her loud, snorting ones that threw her head back and never failed at making me laugh, too.

"Well, I should hope so." Katniss dropped her hands from my shoulders and I saw her cheeks were a dark shade of pink.

I felt like purring when I dropped my hands, too. I'd succeeded. My life felt strangely fulfilled. "You're happy again," I told her, unable to stop myself from beaming.

"Told you I'd be better after the meeting." As if on cue, her happy face faltered a little bit.

No, no, no. Stay happy. I rested my forehead on hers. "Do you want to talk about anything?"

Katniss shook her head, forcing away the upset.

"No talking?"

"No talking," she confirmed, but patted me on the cheek, letting the corners of her mouth pull upwards. "How about clothes, yes?"

"Clothes?"

I'd forgotten she was only wearing a towel.

No, not forgotten. I'd forced it out of my mind on purpose because if I'd kissed her like that with her nakedness in mind, something unwanted would certainly happen, making the rest of the night incredibly awkward. Thankfully, I wasn't endanger of that right then, so I walked Katniss back into the room and helped her change.

She'd chosen one of my giant T-shirts, underwear and nothing else.

That was okay with me.

We sank under the covers and I realized how truly exhausted I was. If I felt this way, I couldn't imagine how Katniss felt.

As always, she tucked herself against me and slipped her fingers just under the hem of my shirt after putting her arms around me.

"You're hands are freezing."

"I'm sorry," she said, not sounding like she meant it, and snuck her hands in a little more. "You're just so warm."

I couldn't help but laugh a little and tugged the blanket up to her chin. "Goodnight, Katniss."

"Goodnight." Katniss let out a long sigh, deflating very deep into the pillows.

Wrapped around each other, we fell into a sleep that only lasted until Forest woke up an hour ago to worm his way in between us. Despite having a darling three-year-old boy between me and Katniss, I didn't mind the arrangement and fell asleep with my family in my arms.

**oOo**

_Hurrah! I spent this entire chapter listening to Queen and Great Lake Swimmers and Blue October. My heart is full of love._

_Now, everyone, you might be wondering what's going to happen to this story. It seems over, doesn't it?_

_Well, it isn't. In fact, I'll let you in on a few secrets._

_Secret #1: __There is only about six chapters of this story left, then it'll be the end of this entire trilogy. Goodbyes will be made, tears will be shed, for I am not coming back (well…maybe)._

_Secret #2: __There is a war in our future. Isn't there always? There must be a war in order for a story to be complete. And it's coming faster than you think._

_Secret #3:__ By "faster than you think" I mean Chapter 24. That's two chapters away. GASP!_

_Secret #4: __I'm going to miss it as much as you are. I want to give Forest a little brother or sister, I want to give them a life with no worry (aka: no story plot, but that sounds kind of fun) I want to continue, but I don't think I should._

_Secret #5: __My mom sent me to therapy because of this. Well, not this story in particular, but I got so unhealthily obsessed, reality has become more of a nightmare and my writing has become my reality and I'm having a little trouble adjusting to the fact that Peeta doesn't exist, and neither do mockingjays or District 13 or ANYTHING. Sad, isn't it?_

_So anyways, there's the gist of it. Six more chapters and I'm out of here (you know, probably not because I have terrible willpower.)_

_I'm going to be crying so hard…_


	22. Chapter 22

_The beginning of this chapter is going to suck. I'm not even going to lie. Forgive me!_

_Sorry!_

_I've probably gone about this way too fast._

_It's a shame…_

**oOo**

**KATNISS' POV**

The speech was nothing I'd ever witnessed in my life. Like nothing I'd ever been a part of. The people, the cameras, the crisply ironed suits and looks of hope so vivid and saturating I could almost _taste_ it. I was a part of it, I was standing at the top, I _was_ their hope. Though it made me uneasy, part of me felt proud.

As promised, I wore the tight, expensive clothes President Snow wanted me to wear and I stood next to her. The words written on a page in front of me were spoken aloud to Panem. As I read, it felt robotic and emotionless, though everyone assured me it was wonderful and touching and blahblahblah. Though I didn't believe any of them, I let everyone whisk me away with praises.

At first it was many different people—some I didn't know. Then there were spare few Officials to set up the last of the details with me. Then it was Mother and Prim fussing over me, trying to discuss plans, while Peeta carrying Forest followed us. What I really wanted was to lay down and sleep.

Even when we got on a hovercraft to go back to District 12 after the speech on the seventh, they weren't quiet. I didn't participate in any of their conversations. The craft landed, I got off and went straight to bed without looking back, only pausing for a brief moment to pull the itchy clothes off of me and step into something more comfortable. I was asleep before Peeta got in bed next to me.

On the ninth of May, I woke from a nap to find silence in our house. It must have been late; the open curtains only let in a fraction of bluish light from the setting sun. Rubbing my eyes, I remembered the past day and groaned automatically. We'd come from District 13 straight to the Victor's Village, where I promptly fell asleep yet again.

The past few days have definitely taken their toll on me. I've been stressed and on edge and bent to the point of breaking. Though it was always unintentional, there were the occasions when I'd snap at Peeta or Forest and then go sleep off the guilt with a dose of my mother's homemade sleeping concoction. The guilt was always there, though. Between trying to help with arrangements for District 12's relocation and fighting with Coin and trying to answer panicked citizens' questions, it was hard getting in moments to _eat_, nevertheless to be an actual part of the family with my boys. I had spent every night in District 13 since our agreed partnership, and I had to say I didn't like it a single bit.

I dragged myself into the kitchen—where I knew my boys would be—and sat down, pulling my legs up underneath me and resting my forehead on the table. Neither Peeta nor Forest said anything to me. Forest was sitting at his special high stool we'd bought him for his birthday (the reference books weren't comfortable enough for him), and over a page of paper and a crayon, he stared at me.

When I noticed him looking, I smiled tiredly and tweaked his nose. "How are you feeling, love?"

He shrugged his tiny shoulders. "'M doing alright. Daddy's makin' us pastries." His young speech turned some of his "s"s into "th"s.

Another remorseful lump closed up my throat and I turned my gaze up to Peeta, who was still turned to face the stove, stirring some sort of sweet-smelling, red syrup.

I stood, shuffling over to him in my oversized T-shirt and underwear, wringing my hands together. "…Hey, Peeta."

When he turned to look down at me, my heart clenched a little as I saw the horridly worried slant to his eyebrows and the morose sag to his eyes. He looked unwell—sickly, even. Exhausted.

Peeta stopped stirring and turned the stove off, bending his head over in a moment of stillness, once again avoiding my gaze.

"…I'm sorry," I tried, turning my gaze to the floor and willing away the stinging saltwater from my eyes.

He shook his head, sucking in a breath through his nose.

"Please, I'm sorry," I repeated, feeling like a terrible person, and grabbed his arm. Don't look like that. I didn't mean to hurt our family. It was only a week. Just a week. "I should pay more attention t—"

Peeta shook his head again, and I closed my mouth. After a long while of silence (unable to look at him, I watched the syrup solidify without heat) he finally looked up, expression traumatized and distressed.

"This is tearing our family apart, you realize that?" His voice was scratched from tears.

Had he been crying? And I'd not noticed? What kind of wife does that make me?

I opened my mouth to apologize, on the verge of crying myself.

"Don't," Peeta held up a finger. "Please. We're—"

"I'm sorry," I blurted out, ignoring his obvious motions for me to be quiet and let him speak. Tears pricked my eyes. "I don't mean to be tearing us apart. This is just the only way I know to help, I don't know how else to."

After furrowing his brows with annoyance, and then grimacing down at his hands, Peeta sighed. "You're really bad at listening, I hope you know."

I nodded, chewing on the inside of my cheek until it bled.

"I was just saying…that if we're going to get through whatever war that's happening, we're going to need to be a little more…" he sucked in a breath and then shook his head yet again. "Both of us. You know, your mother and sister came by a few hours ago. I sent them back home."

"Why?" It was hard not to be curious, but not entirely upset.

"Obviously," Peeta grabbed an oven mitt and slid it on over his right hand, "you need a break. You're killing yourself. I'm not up for talking an awful lot about it right now, but understand I'm still with you, okay?"

Grinding my teeth together in an effort to not cry, I nodded my head. He motioned for me to sit down without meeting my eyes and busied himself with the pastries.

Feeling my hands clenching and unclenching with their stumpy nails and white knuckles, I sat next to my son and lifted him onto my lap. He snuggled into my chest.

"You know I love you, right?" I whispered into his hair.

Was I really corrupting my little boy? Or was corrupting not the right word? He needed his mother, I knew that, but would life within the war be a good thing even if it meant time with me? I couldn't expose him to the hardships but he already knew some. He saw me every day, detached and stiff, so much different than what I hoped his usual view of me was.

I missed having time to play with him and time to have tea with Peeta and time to fool around in the kitchen with both of them, laughing and having fun and making memories.

It had only been a week, but I already felt us changing as a family. It was sickening and heartbreaking. Some way I had to change it, but how? This was a war. In just a few weeks the Capitol would come to bomb our home. We'd do what we could to be ready, but no one could ever be ready to have their lives flipped upside-down. No one wants their home destroyed. Forest was too young, too innocent. It was impossible to shield him, no matter how much we wanted to.

Forest pulled away from our embrace to touch my cheeks, blond eyebrows puckering. "Why are you sad?"

Trying to smile, I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes. "…Nothing, Forest. I'm just trying to protect you."

That made him frown even more, and it was a little painful to note he looked exactly like I did. "From what, Mama?"

"Everything." At that time, Peeta was turning to the table with a plate piled with strawberry-topped pastries, and so I patted Forest's back and helped him back into his chair. "Try to eat neatly, okay?"

He nodded and accepted the pile of napkins I pushed in his direction.

The next few days were just as stressful, if not more. We stayed at District Thirteen, and though I made a conscious effort to be more…family-like to my family, all of the last-minute orders running back between District 12 and District 13 were causing enormous pressure.

Everyone in District 12 knew about the relocation plans, obviously. The speech was aired live, of course, but those who didn't watch it—on their personal TVs or to huge screen in the Square—got fliers. Questions flooded the Justice building, and I was in charge of answering a portion of them. Everywhere I went, people hit me with worries and were scrambling around trying to sort their affairs out.

"There's a war?"

"Why's no one panicking?"

"Do we have an army ready?"

"The Capitol is still at large?"

"How did THAT happen?"

"Who's the new President?"

"Why are they attacking?"

"Is it because of you?"

"Did they have anything to do with the disappearances those years ago?"

"There's a _war_?"

"How can we just leave our homes?"

"Are we going to be homeless after this?"

"How is it even possible to relocate and entire district?"

"Are the other districts in danger?"

"Are they relocating?"

"Why is the Capitol only coming here?"

"What if we don't want to go to District 13?"

"So you're the Mockingjay again?"

"How does that work?"

"Why haven't we seen you in years?"

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Basically, all I told them was that the relocation was mandatory, you're dead if you stay, and all of the other questions would have to be sent in to the head of the some department there in Thirteen. Coin didn't like my reluctance to answer questions, but she couldn't do anything about it.

Once the plans for relocation on the tenth were set in stone and I did my part, all we had to do was make it happen. My family and I had to stay there in Thirteen, but I missed home. The room we were staying in was rather large, and had two queen-size beds. Primrose and Mother slept in one, and Peeta, Forest and I slept in the other. There was the option of getting separate rooms, of course, but we all agreed to stay close together.

On the 10th of May, I woke up at four in the morning.

I hadn't slept a lot that night anyways.

When I got out of the shower, wearing clean clothes (an outfit I'd been instructed to wear that day by Coin—very professional and crisp), Mother and Peeta were already awake, standing near a wall, heads bent and eyebrows furrowed. I saw that they'd put Forest next to Prim in the same bed.

When I came back into the room, braiding my hair back, their heads lifted and I heard Peeta suck in a breath.

Ignoring their anxious looks, I finished braiding my hair and walked over to the dresser. "You're up early."

"As are you," Mother said quietly, watching me as I took my mockingjay pin from next to the lamp and pinned it to the breast of my navy-blue shirt.

"I'm heading out soon for District 12. We're starting relocation soon."

"And we're not coming?"

I knew this was coming. Wincing, I slowly turned to look at the both of them. Mother, who's been by my side for many years, always sticking close at times of need and providing support even when I felt alone. Peeta, who's always been next to me, almost literally my other half.

The day before Coin had made it very clear that we were the only two to be in District 12 to organize the move. Mother and Peeta, who were _technically_ already transferred, should stay until it was over. We were still on code orange for the war, but it should stay away from red until later in the month. I was still on edge. As always.

I walked over to them and tentatively put my hand on Peeta's arm, but addressing them both. "I think it's best for you to stay here. Both of you." I looked back at Primrose and Forest. "All of you."

Of course, Peeta shook his head fiercely and took his arm away from me. "I'm coming. I ha—"

"Stay," I ordered, interrupting him, and put my hands on my hips. "I can't have any more stress than I already do."

"…I'm stress?" He looked offended and angry, looking at me through creased eyebrows and slightly narrowed eyes.

"No, y—" I paused, and then sighed. "Neither of you are stress. But Coin said specifically that only I am supposed to come. I was hoping to leave and come back before you woke."

"Without saying goodbye?"

Primrose stirred, breathing halted for a moment while we froze, but then she went back asleep.

"I can't argue about this right now." I walked briskly over to the door and opened it. "I'll be back, okay? It's not like I'm off to fight in the war. Just making sure everyone gets on and off the hovercrafts." And before they could make me feel any worse, I walked out and closed the door behind me.

I felt guilty leaving them.

I loved both of them, but I just couldn't. There were orders. And besides the orders, I needed time to think. Time to realize if I was making a mistake. I couldn't put any more pressure on them.

When I got to the vast space where the fleet of hovercrafts was revving up, I was met by a number of people. Coin was the first, of course.

She cleared her throat and everyone behind her fell silent. "I'm glad to see you're up and ready, Soldier."

There wasn't anything to say, really, so I tightened my mouth and nodded once, letting my gaze travel to the extra people.

"These," Coin motioned to them, "are part of your team for the mission today. Sullavin and Torrid are to guard you—don't try to shake them off because they're always going to be right next to you."

I nodded as the president pointed to different people in the team.

"Ayn has weapons if it comes to it, so go to her. Faare is in charge of your appearance and Randi is the reporter and try not to ignore him because it's his job, alright, Soldier?"

I nodded again.

"And this is your pilot." Coin introduced a gruff, graying man with a bristly mustache and kind eyes.

When we were all introduced, she motioned for the lady she'd called Ayn and took two things from her. One was miniscule and curved, which was clipped around my ear.

"Now this," the president said, securing it, "is a less-brutal form of tracking. If anything was to happen to you, there's a button on the side to press and we'll come get you, okay? And this," she pressed a hand-held radio in my palm, "will help you communicate once in District 12."

"Is all of this really necessary?" I wondered aloud, feeling the device in my palm and the bit of plastic in my ear, static noting it was already transmitting sounds to some unknown control room here in Thirteen.

Coin gave me a stern look. "I'd like to keep you intact, Soldier. Of course it's necessary. Now get going. I'd like to be back in time for dinner."

Within five minutes I was seated in the cockpit of a hovercraft with a pilot I barely knew, the back filled with five other people that were apparently my "team," watching as the roof above us opened like a mouth. Deep violet color of sawn spilled across the colossal fleet.

The first craft took off (one of the biggest ones designated especially for large amounts of people—which was about a hundred) and then a second, and soon, there were two hundred crafts in the sky. It looked like a locust cloud, buzzing around like insects before the heat bent around them and they dissolved into the sky.

There were lists of where to land, who was assigned to what hovercraft, which streets and sections were supposed to go first. I didn't have a single bit of information memorized, but I didn't need to. All I was there for was to walk around and encourage people until they were all boarded.

It would take a half-hour to get there, an hour to board, a half-hour back and half hour to get everyone off before heading out again. So with roughly three hours per trip and 2000 people per trip, we'd get everyone to District 13 in just shy of 15 hours. I'd be back at 7 PM, at the earliest. They wouldn't miss me.

A burst of static filled the radio and a voice, blurred, said, "Base to Craft #32, are you off yet or can we send a straggler in with you?"

My pilot grunted and reached over to pick up his microphone. "Craft #32 here. No, I have not taken off yet. Send him in."

I didn't think much of it. My eyes were to the silhouettes in the sky, black against the many shades of pre-sunrise. My eyes were still up there when the hovercrafts' side door opened with a hiss. For a moment the noise of the propellers filled our ears, and then it was muted again when the door was shut.

The pilot turned back to our new addition and asked, "You buckled in?"

"Yes, sir, I'm ready."

The voice was none too familiar.

Gritting my teeth with such force an ache began in my gums, I spun my head around to shoot the nastiest death glare I possibly could to the back where, coincidentally, Peeta had made himself comfortable in the seat closest to the cockpit entrance.

"Peeta Mellark, I'm going to _kill_ you," I growled at him.

"No unbuckling until we're safe in the 5,000 zone, Soldier Everdeen," Mr. Mustache informed me almost jovially.

Peeta shrugged at me, and I turned back to face ahead, crossing my arms.

Once it was safe to unbuckle, I did so and crawled into the back of the hovercraft, sat down in front of him (a little ways away from my guard named Torrid), and crossed my arms a second time.

"You are in serious trouble, young man. And you know it."

Peeta just nodded and stretched his arm out behind the seat next to his. "Yes, I do. But I couldn't let you go alone."

"I can take care of myself."

"It's not always about you, love." He put on a sort of derisive smile, but then got more serious. "I know you can take care of yourself, but we're a team. It felt kind of like an insult when you left. As though I can let you leave me alone and it won't scare the living hell out of me knowing you're miles away and out in the open."

I set my jaw, still glaring at him.

"It's my job to protect you, even if you don't need it. We're a _team_. Even if you can live without me, I can't without you." Peeta sighed, changing his sad look for amused. "You're stuck with me. Sorry."

Giving in a little bit, I scrunched up my face and slouched over onto the seat next to his, staring at my folded hands resting on my lap. "…Coin's not going to be happy."

"Oh, I cleared it with her before I got on. Of course."

"How did you possibly manage that?" For a moment he'd stunned the scowl right off of me.

"You have a stylist and a weapons master and bodyguards," Peeta said, looking a little triumphant, "but no one to keep your feet on the ground. Coin knows how…unpredictable you are."

"Unpredictable?" I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him challengingly."You t—"

"Would you stop being so difficult?" His tone wasn't upset or defensive or anything. It was simply a question, if not a little annoyed. Peeta sighed with exasperation. "I don't know if you're just pretending to want to do this all alone or you seriously don't want me here, but you're making a big deal about it. I'm…I'm never going to say you can't live without me, Katniss."

When I didn't answer, he turned to face me directly and squeezed one of his hands around mine; I couldn't pull away if I'd wanted to.

"Look me in the eyes," Peeta whispered, his eyes indeed boring into mine with a fiery sort of strength, "and tell me that you don't need your family through this. That you don't need me."

A lump crawled up into my throat, half-defiant-half-understanding.

"Because I need you. And I'm not letting you do this alone." Without much warning, he let go of my hand and wrapped his arms around me in an inescapable embrace, warm and strong past the point of no return.

My hands curled into loose fists around the back of his shirt and I buried my face in his shoulder briefly. Just briefly. "…Is Forest okay with Mother and Prim?"

"Yeah," he said softly, still not letting go. "Your mother wasn't happy, but I know they're all safe."

"Thank you." I took my arms back and sat, hunched, wiping my nose with the back of my hand, not at all lady-like. "For not letting me be a jerk to you all the time."

"You're not a jerk. You're just trying to grow up too fast. I keep telling you."

A ghost of a smile traces both of our lips and I shook my head. "It's not conscious, believe me."

"Soldier Katniss, the president is on radio one for you," the pilot called from the cockpit, and I sighed.

"See you back down on the ground, Peeta," I said, standing up. "And again, I'm sorry I'm such a—"

"Don't say it!" he warned, grinning now.

It was hard not to grin.

He just did that to me.

How come I couldn't be upset at him for more than five minutes?

Stupid Peeta.

Moving the first batch of citizens went well. There was a lot of hustle and—of course—questions, but I tried not to be so hostile and actually took the time and answered as much as I could and helped as much as possible.

Our team set up a makeshift station in one of the many empty shops in town. Though I tried to dodge any makeovers, the woman Coin had called Faare managed to catch me long enough to brush a layer of foundation over my face and fix my scraggly, damp hair. As promised, my bodyguards stuck right next to me, but were good-natured and friendly, aside from never letting me out of their sight. Randi the reporter took note of everything. Everything. Despite the fact of it being annoying, he only asked for me to speak for him a few times, and I reluctantly gave in.

I stayed in District 12.

The first 2000 people were loaded into their designated hovercrafts with barely a second to spare, and they were off. I checked on my gazillion-paged list of people who I was supposed to be in charge of, the section of District 12 I was guiding into a hovercraft on the edge of town. It was incredibly tedious work checking off names, _while_ listening to all of them tell me what an honor it was and how proud they were of me and how incredible and frightening it was, _while_ answering the questions.

It took several hours, but we'd gotten three loads done so far, and the fourth was finishing loading up.

I stood next to the gigantic craft, checking off the last of the people, when my pilot walked up to me.

"You've got them all, Soldier?" he asked, sliding one of the several doors closed, blocking the chatter of excited people clutching on to whatever they'd managed to bring with them.

I tapped the papers with my pencil and glanced up at him. "Yup. You're clear to go."

He gave me a salute, smiled passed his mustache, and went to board his hovercraft.

An earth-shaking rumble filled the air as all of the propellers of 200 hovercrafts wound into action and lifted their bodies a good fifty feet before vanishing.

There was no quiet moment, obviously, but this was as quiet as it had been so far that day. A stray person or two wander around, eyes fixed to a piece of paper, trying to figure out what craft they were assigned to and where they could find that craft's docking point. While they drifted, I allowed myself a moment to breath and slump into our station for a glass of water.

Peeta was waiting in there, in conversation with the reporter, but when I came in his head lifted and he abruptly walked away from talking to Randi to go over to me.

"Everything went smoothly, I trust?" he asked, leaning against the wall nearest the sink, where I was chugging tap water.

"Yeah." I set down the glass and squinted back down at the stack of paper I held. "One more round and we've succeeded."

When Peeta raised his hand for an enthusiastic high-five, I couldn't help but meet his hand in the air with mine, smiling.

"What part of town are we in charge of?" He rested his chin on the top of my head, peering down at my papers with me. "North-east from Stalinbrooke to Emmers to the square, a total of…78 people? We're just using one craft, right?" After flicking his eyes up to mine, he looked back down. "Stalinbrooke…" A frown stretched the corners of Peeta's lips downwards.

It _did_ sound familiar…

"Stalinbrooke!" I said suddenly, remembering with a wide smile. He looked startled. "That's where Lucia and Caroline and Ivy live! I'm glad we've got them in our craft…"

Peeta looked happy, too, and smiling as I was, he leaned over to look out of the nearest window. "Speak of the devil; is that our trio walking over right now?"

On my tiptoes, I managed to get my eyes over the windowsill and look. Sure enough, there they were. Lucia was hobbling along on a cane wrapped in a dusty lilac shawl, looking worn and a million years old. Ivy held onto her mother's hand, back straight, skirt swishing around her knees and red hair tied up into a braid down her back.

She was my little girl.

My smile widened.

Hopping away from the window, I ran to the door and stepped out to greet them, ignoring the two men who stepped out, too.

Ivy was the first to see me, naturally.

"Katniss!" she exclaimed, perking up and dropping her mother's hand to run to me.

I caught her slight form in my arms and lifted her a few inches into the air before releasing her.

"How are you doing? Is everything alright?" I asked, putting a finger under her chin as she grinned.

Ivy nodded. "Momma's been worried, Katniss, what's going on? No one will tell me."

Keeping my hands on her shoulders, I glanced up with worry at Caroline, but she just gazed back at me tiredly, creases of worry in between her eyebrows.

"Ivy…" I sucked in a breath. "It's…nothing you need to worry about. We're going to keep you safe, alright?"

Her celery-green eyes narrowed with a look similar to Forest's when he said the exact same thing: "…Safe from what?" She began looking just as worried as her mother. "Katniss?

"You know how I…disappeared a few years ago?"

She nodded.

I shouldn't be telling her that, but I did anyways. "Well, the same people I stayed with want to try to take me again. But this time they aren't going to be so nice."

"So why is everyone leaving? We can hide in your basement!" Ivy grinned hopefully, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet but stopped when she saw me shake my head.

"We're going to a safer place to hide. Away from here."

Caroline then came over and put her arms around me into a brief, grateful hug. "I hate you're going through this. Again," she said into my hair, seeming incredibly tired. "But thank you for…stepping up. You're an inspiration to everyone."

I ducked my head modestly, but then Ivy glanced around me and let out a giggle.

"Peeta!"

Apparently, he was coming out to see them as well, and he caught the little girl as she ran at him, sweeping her into a circle before letting her go again. "We meet again!" he said with a deep, mischievous chuckle, flicking her playfully in the head. "I like your hair."

"Thank you." Ivy grinned up at him.

"Guess what I have for you."

Peeta, as always, brought a customary secret stash of chocolate cookies in hopes to be seeing her again.

The little girl skipped up and down with excitement. "What, Peeta? What?"

He took a step backwards towards the house. "Gue—"

My radio beeped inside my pocket and an urgent voice interrupted us mid-sentence.

"_Base to Katniss, Base to Katniss!" _it said frantically, static garbling the words. "_Base t—_!"

"I'm here," I shot through the radio, pressing my finger to the little button on the side. "What is it?"

_"We've got a code red! A code red! Capitol hovercrafts spotted right above District 12! Get to safety!"_

"Right ab—?" I almost repeated, but an ear-splitting crash broke the world around us, followed by panicked screams (some of which were Ivy's). The earth beneath of feet shook and the sky split open, revealing a huge, black hovercraft ripping across the slate, roaring and blasting wind in every which direction.

The Capitol seal was stamped on the side.

And it was right above District 12.

Shouting almost inaudibly for Caroline, Lucia and Ivy to get inside our makeshift station, I grabbed Peeta's arm and began stumbling in that direction, too. Everything under and around us was shaking, but just as Caroline—with Ivy's hand in hers—yanked the door open, the noise and vibrating quieted to a near stop.

The hovercraft let out a whine and began flying faster to the north, and a single strident_ CLICK _came from it, before I watched several dozen black objects pour from its belly and fly in every which direction.

"Get down!" I managed to scream, half-diving on top of the others, shoving them inside as the bombs hit.

One after another, each tennis-sized sphere smacked the ground. Accompanying deafening booms, the world was thrown into massive shudders, lurching all of us—including my frantic bodyguards—off of our feet. Ivy was screaming, her hands over her ears, and Caroline had dropped to the floor next to her, cradling her in her arms, trying to comfort her while a silent moan of fright escaped her own, pale lips.

Glass shattered inside our station, only adding to the noise. Peeta tried to force me down to the ground and protect me with his own body, but I struggled. Every time I'd stand up I'd get knocked down from the bombs still hitting nearby. I tried tearing my arms away from his to get to one of the windows wear no glass remained.

Outside I could see smoke filling the air. Barely any debris hurtled across cracked streets, though, which shocked me. I saw shapes of houses and shops that weren't destroyed in the blackness.

There wasn't any fire, either. All I could see was lung-choking smoke and the occasional bits of shop siding that were crumbling off onto the street. There were marks in the road where the bombs hit, but nothing was too damaged.

After one more jerk of District 12, nothing followed. I managed to stay standing, clinging to the windowsill, legs shaking with shock, coughing a little. Behind me, Ivy was crying quietly, and I could hear Lucia and Caroline trying to comfort her.

"Katniss," Peeta gasped, pulling himself onto his feet next to me, gasping for air and shaking violently as well. "What was…?"

My radio interrupted him yet again and I scrambled for it.

"_Base to Solider Katniss, are you all right? Repeat, are you alright?"_

"I'm fine," I managed to choke out into the speaker, making an attempt to breathe normally. "Everyone here's fine. What just happened? There's smoke…" As if on cue, both Peeta and I dissolved in fits of hacking and couching, trying to rid our lungs of the smoke, which was already beginning to dissipate.

After a moment of more static, the man answered, seeming a little calmer. "_Thank God… That was the first round, apparently. The experts we have here identified them as what we called scattering bombs. They're just meant to disorient you. The smoke will clear eventually, but when it does, that only means the second round will come."_

"Second round?" I squeaked.

Of course.

Second round of the bombs.

This is, after all, a war.

It had come sooner than I thought. No time to prepare myself.

If it was a war, how come I felt so composed inside? My head told me a war was worse. Worse than this?

I looked back at Lucia, Caroline and Ivy. Lucia and Ivy were so fragile and easily damaged. Caroline could hold out a little longer than the other two, but I had to keep them safe. I had to keep _Peeta_ safe.

Swallowing, I lifted the radio up to my mouth again and pressed the button. "Is there anything I should do?"

"_Stay undercover, Soldier. We can't come and pick you up until they leave, which is who-knows-how-long away. How many people do you have?"_

"Um…" I glanced around again. "I _think_ Ayn's fine, as are Sullivan, Torrid, Randi and Faare. I have Peeta with me, too, and three members of Craft #32's next trip: Caroline and Ivy Sawyer and Lucia Bennet."

_"Well, arm yourself and get everyone in a safe place. Our radar shows no more hovercrafts in your area, but it's often faulty and we don't want to take any chances. Keep alert, and __stay safe.__"_

"Yes, sir," I said, but my voice sounded distant. My eyes felt like they hadn't blinked in an hour, but I kept them open wide as wheels in my head turned. Slowly, I let go of the windowsill to stand up straight, and I walked past Peeta. Past the three girls huddled on the floor. Caroline's eyes begged me for help and information, but I just gave her a sorry "I don't know" look and kept walking, straight into a room in the back.

The weapon's keeper, Ayn, was gripping the back of a chair, looking a little shaken but more composed than I felt. She looked up when I entered, but didn't say anything as I went directly to the long table on the other side of the room where she was keeping the weapons.

There were a few guns and knives of all sizes, hand grenades and other such weapons I passed over. Though I didn't see a bow right away, I grabbed a heavy, solid-looking vest and zipped it under my jacket. Bullet-proof. Not missal-proof, but close enough.

"Katniss," said a quiet voice behind me, and when I turned, Ayn was standing there, hands folded in front of her small but burly figure. Her mouth was pulled up into a sort of sad smile. "Don't think Coin left you unprotected."

"I know…" I said back, but disappointed. No, more than disappointed. There was only hope if I had my hands on what I could really _use_. No guns or knives would really protect me.

"Come here." Ayn gestured to a corner where I saw a cloth was pulled over an object I could not identify. I crept behind her uncertainly, and we both bent to reveal an odd-shaped box, very dense and heavy with bolts on either side and a silver strip on the top. Engraved in the strip were the words, "_Katniss Mellark."_

After unlocking each bolt, Ayn slid her fingers under and lifted the lid, revealing something that made the breath catch in my lungs.

I was saved.

It was a bow, of course. Curved and black, but simple, strung and ready for use. Nestled in the box next to it was a shining black quiver with three different sections of arrows. I recognized it. Under each separate section were the words **normal**,** fire **and** explosive**. Of course.

Sucking in an awed breath, I reached into the box to lift out my new bow. It felt light in my hands; strange, but not necessarily bad. The draw weight was a little tighter than the ones I have at home, but I knew that only meant that it was more powerful.

The quiver of arrows fit perfectly between my shoulder blades.

"Do me a favor and contact Coin," I asked Ayn, suddenly feeling very professional and grown-up, standing up to slinging the bow on my arm as well. Ideas were blossoming in my head. I felt energy surging up from my feet into my chest. I felt driven, I felt strong, unpredictable. _Wild_. I could do something. My hands itched to reach back for an arrow, but I restrained myself.

Ayn shifted nervously. "Soldier, if you're planning on going outside, the scattering bombs were only the first round. It's still dangerous."

"The world wanted me to do something." I began walking out of the room door, knowing she'd follow. "Watch me."

"Soldier—"

"Please contact Coin," I repeated. She would want to know what I was planning.

Peeta, who was still in the main room, turned to look at me as I came in. His eyes fell immediately on the weapons across my chest and frowned. It was obvious he knew what was going on, judging by the look on his fact and the slow shaking of his head. "You're n—"

"Just don't, Peeta." Sweeping a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I bent down and gingerly helped Ivy to her feet. She was still indelibly shaken, as were Caroline and Lucia, but they remained seated on the floor, attempting to put themselves together. "Ivy, if there are any more bombs, just stay close to Peeta, okay? He'll take care of all of you."

"I'm coming _with_ you mean." Peeta crossed his arms.

"No, you aren't. This is my turn. I'm just going to make quick rounds around the square to catch any stragglers, and then I'll send them your way."

"That's dangerous," he said angrily, at the same time my bodyguard Torrid stepped up.

He had a muscular body and towered over me, but there were wrinkles of laughter at the corners of his eyes. "We can't let you do that, Soldier. We have orders to keep you safe."

"Why does everyone think I can't keep myself safe?" Throwing my hands up into the air with anger, I let out a frustrated sound. "I want to keep myself alive as much as you do."

"Which is why you're going to let me come with." Without saying anything else, Peeta snatched up a bullet-proof vest and a gun (both of which Ayn had brought with her from the room, but I doubt he knew how to shoot) and readied them on his body. "I n—"

Interrupting him, I took a step forwards and curled my fingers around the collar of his shirt, bringing my stern face just inches from his to show him that I was very much serious. "Peeta, you aren't understanding me. I'm. Going. Alone. _Alone_," I repeated. "You need to stay here and protect Ivy."

His mouth tightened into a pale, thin line, and he stayed silent.

"Look," I put one of my hands on his cheek. "I appreciate you wanting to come and protect me. And I love you for it, I really do. But this is something that I'm going to do alone. It won't take long; I'll be back before you know it. Okay?"

Peeta shook his head, lowering my hand from his face with his own. "I…I don't like it. What if another round of bombs hit? What if they capture you again? What _then_, Katniss? I wasn't able to protect you last time. I want to be there just in case."

"I'll just be five minutes. I'll stay undercover."

"You won't be able to hit anything with your bow if it surprises you. If there's no room to draw."

Without breaking eye contact, I snuck my hand around him, stole his small gun and shoved it in the back of my trousers. "Better?"

Looking pained and defeated, Peeta waited a moment before bending down and pressing his lips to mine for just a brief moment. "No. I still really don't like this. You know how horrible I'd feel if you get captured again? You know how many times over I'd kill myself?"

"Don't joke about that. It isn't funny." I straightened my quiver on my collarbone. "And you don't need to feel terrible because I'm going to be back before you have times to miss you."

He scoffed. "I miss you already."

"Soldier,"

The bodyguard, Sullavin, stepped forwards and shook his head. Bald and wearing a tiny pair of glasses and a scruffy five-o-clock shadow, he was not as intimidating as Torrid, but still professional and as strong as a bodyguard would need to be.

"Coin would never allow you to go out alone," he said. "That is exactly why we're here, to stop you and protect you from doing things like this."

"She doesn't have to find out." I opened the front door, but before leaving, I poked Peeta in the chest. "Take care of them."

"Yes ma'am," he said weakly.

"I don't want—"

A familiar rumbling filled the air again.

Peeta began to swear but stopped himself just in time for Ivy to start freaking out again. She hid in her mother's chest, and just as Peeta was beginning to walk over there, we heard the whistles.

Pitched so high we could hardly hear them, the bombs dropped like stones. When I took a step out the door I could see them before they hit. Only four bombs total, they were each about the size of my forearm and coming _very_ fast.

The whistling grew louder and I barely had time to duck back inside before they struck earth.

If the sound was loud during the scattering bombs, it was nothing compared to this. I could practically hear my eardrums ripping open as the screams of bombs against metal and wood shot into the atmosphere. Plumes of fire exploded from the earth, sending debris and smoke rocketing in every direction.

The ground rocked beneath us again, dust and smoke clogged out vision, the sounds of collapsing buildings and fire…

My body had made the decision even before I heard the screaming.

Without waiting for anyone, I shot from my hiding place and sprinted. Over pieces of ruined lives and stumbling through the shaking world, through smoke and fire, I made my way as fast as possible towards the screams.

Up above me in the sky, the smoke cleared just enough for me to see the lurking shape of a hovercraft preparing to drop another round of bombs.

"No you don't," I hissed, and without thinking, I yanked an arrow from my quiver and shot it directly at the craft and just hoped it was the explosive kind.

I watched as it flew straight until I could no longer see it.

A second later the arrow caught in the propellers and fire blinded my vision as the hovercraft exploded into a million different pieces of burning shards blasted into the atmosphere.

The feeling of triumph only lasted for a moment before I slung my bow over my shoulder and began running again.

I found the source of the screaming in the Justice Building.

Thick, black smoke billowed from a spot just 100 meters from the south end of the Building, and tongues of orange could be seen licking the dirty sky. I tripped as fast as possible, while keeping a low profile, across the Square into the Justice Building, which is where I found the majority of the remaining District 12.

People were squished into the foyer, huddling together, some weeping some screaming some standing still and silent. Though there were obviously not 78 total, there were a lot, and getting at least them to safety became priority. When one head turned my way, they all did. Many people began calling out my name, reaching their hands towards me, but I stayed back.

"_We have five minutes before the next round_," I said in the loudest, strongest voice I could muster, hushing everyone's murmurs and cries. "We need to get all of you to the abandoned building on the corner a quarter mile from the square to the west. As fast as you can, there should be a hovercraft coming in just a few minutes, you'll be all escorted to safety."

That last part was a lie, but I'd pressed the help button on the side of my earpiece about five times, so there was an element of hopeful truth to that statement.

It was difficult ushering everyone out, but as soon as the last person left the Justice Building they began moving. Some running, some jogging, but all heading where I asked them to in a hurried fashion. Coughing filled the smoke-saturated air, and several people tripped on their way, but we managed to make it so where the station was in sight before a crash of a hovercraft above us made me shriek, "_Go! GO! Get d—!"_

The first bomb hit the ground the next street over. It was piercing and bloody. Houses were sent shooting up in the air, raining us with its flaming rubble. Tiny balls of flame rolled to stops at our feet and I tried shoving stragglers towards the station.

Bomb after bomb fell.

I was covered in blood—all my own from burns and tripping on wood and metal—but I didn't stop until I got the last person into the station and fell inside myself, yelling Peeta's name.

He was there by my side automatically, squeezing between people who were trying to find room for themselves in the structure —which was a little smaller than the Justice Building.

Peeta yanked me into his arms, enveloping me in a violent embrace, crushing my ribs, but I just held tighter. Though his touch said different, I heard his shouts over the other shouts and rumbles.

"You _idiot_, what the hell were you thinking?" he said, voice haggard with upset and tears. "What were you _thinking_?"

I kept shaking my head, tugging away from him. "Peeta, th—"

More bombs hitting District 12 cut me off. But this time it was not 200 meters away. Not even 100.

A bomb crashed through one of the sides of the station all 60-something of us. More screams filled the air, blood-curdling, ripping up and down my spine. At the same time building disintegrated inside of itself, an even shriller _woop_ing sound of a siren cut through the chaos.

It was a rescue hovercraft, risking everything to save us.

Though I was unable to direct people out verbally, I shoved them in the direction needed and we stumbled out into the flattened wreck of what used to be District 12. Sky was no longer visible and ash coated everything. _It's not over_, I told myself, and tried stumbling towards the siren. A few times along the way I lost Peeta in the smoke, but he was always right there again, clutching my wrist and shouting for people, too. Though Ivy and Caroline and Lucia were no longer visible either, I knew they were safe.

There is was: our rescue hovercraft with "District 13" written on the side. I prayed that it wasn't a trap and made sure everyone was inside before stumbling in myself.

Hacking cinders and ash out of my lungs, I stood doubled-over next to my chair for a moment before being able to blink my streaming eyes and look around.

People sat together huddled in groups looking traumatized, some shivering, some crying, some frozen stiff away from the others. Thank goodness the hovercraft we were in was big enough, because I was beginning to feel very claustrophobic. Trying to level my breaths out, I curled up in a chair singled away from the rows of the other chairs and drew my knees up to my chest, trying to get the images out of my mind.

_Fire everywhere_.

_Pieces of our home burning holes into our shoes_.

_Raking ash inside our lungs_.

_The screams of a town in flames, bombs falling, Peeta begging me not to go but the resilience that made my mind up before I had a chance to think._

The first time District 12 was bombed I wasn't there. The first I heard about it was from Gale. Now, ironically, it was Gale who did the bombing the second time around.

My heart danced with fear inside my throat.

I have no more home.

All because of…

It's my fault.

None of these people sitting around me have homes. Some lost more than their homes—everyone who I couldn't find in time.

My fault…

Peeta came up next to me and sat down, briefly putting his face in his hands before looking up at me. Ash was streaked across his cheek and the usually pink tint to his skin was grayed with a layer of soot. He looked frightened, distraught, angry, tired, and when he opened his mouth to say something I cut him off.

"Please don't say anything," I whispered through a hoarse throat, looking away from him in shame. "I already feel bad as it is."

"For what? Saving their lives?"

"Not everyone… I didn't get everyone…. I _destroyed_ their lives."

"Houses can always be rebuilt, Katniss." Peeta reached over and touched my cheek with one of his fingers, apparently oblivious to the many pairs of eyes trained on us. "Lives cannot. What you did today—"

"—Was reckless and idiotic, I know. You said."

"No. Stop interrupting. I was going to say that you were very brave, and saved a lot of lives. I'm proud of you."

I wiped my eyes, getting my face even more dirty, and looked up at him. "…You're not angry at me?"

"Oh, I'm furious," Peeta reassured me with a weary smile. "But don't worry about it. The adrenaline will run out eventually. I'm just glad you're safe."

We leaned backwards in our seats, closed our eyes and took a second to breathe beyond the terror and sadness of our only home getting destroyed. It was a time to calm our racing hearts and attempt to rest the tension in our bodies before stepping off the hovercraft and diving into a whirlwind of chaos once more.

Peeta rolled his head over onto his shoulder and opened his brilliant blue eyes to look at me. "If you ever think of doing that again I may have to chain you to a chair until the whim passes."

We both cracked smiles, though they were halfhearted and only a little bit enthusiastic.

"What are we going to do when we get to District 13?" I wondered aloud a few minutes later, looking around at my friends and family who have nowhere to go.

"Well, _you're_ going to the hospital."

"No I'm not," I argued before he could say anything else. "I'm fine." But that was a lie. Many layers of my skin was burnt off. There were only first and second-degree burns, thank goodness, but they hurt like hell and I was sure to need stitches on my hands where glass cut them up.

Though Peeta rolled his eyes—an obvious sign of not accepting defeat—a smile painted his face and he reached over to take my hand. "I don't know about you, but I think I'm going to bed early. This has been most tiring."

"You could say that." Closing my eyelids and resting my head on Peeta's shoulder, one last thought came to mind. "…My mother's going to kill me."

Surprisingly, Peeta scoffed. "If Gale doesn't get to you first."

**oOo**

_I'm not really sure what to think about that chapter._

_But hey, you guys, I only got like five reviews for the last chapter. I really AM sorry if my writing is going downhill or WHATEVER, but I'd really appreciate if you guys would tell me what you think of it. _

_On another note, I'm thinking about changing my penname. I've had TheSoggyBug since I was like 10, but my sister inspired me today. How does "Dr. Schnerdly" sound? Incredibly weird, but I think it's funny._

_Tell me what you think about it!_


	23. Chapter 23

_This chapter is dedicated to my retarded sister, Morgan. I was stuck on a part and she gave me the awesomest idea even though she hates HG and my writing, so she made me promise to dedicate it to her._

_And then she suggested something even better and made me promise to dedicate it to her twice. _

_Stupid Morgan._

**oOo**

Mother, Prim and Forest met us in the hospital. I was sitting on an examination table wearing a paper-thin gown, waiting for a doctor when the door burst open and they came in.

It was obvious they wanted to envelope me and Peeta in their arms right away, but they thought twice upon seeing our states. Mother brought her hands up to her mouth and tried holding back sobs while her younger daughter did the same, one hand on her mouth, the other wrapped around Forest's tiny fingers.

"Mama!" Forest said, taking his hand away and scrambling over to me. "Mama, what happened? You're hurt!"

"I'm okay, love," I tried reassuring him, but it did little good because I was in such pain, physically and mentally. I touched his cheek, afraid to get any dirt of blood on him. "Really."

"I _knew_ I shouldn't have let you go," my mother choked out, waved her hands around in a frantic gesture, looking for tissues. "I _knew_ it. It was unsafe and-and—"

I knew what it was like to be a mother, to love someone other than yourself so much, someone that you carried inside of you and fed from your own body, someone that you swear takes up every drop of love you feel that's possible to give but you find yourself loving that person more every moment of their lives.

I knew how it felt to be the person on the other side. To be the victim, and the prosecutor, and the symbol of a rebellion and a tribute and a sister and a daughter and a friend.

But this was about being a mother.

And nothing was scarier than thinking you wouldn't live to see your child's face another day.

Suddenly not caring about getting ash or blood on my family, the second I heard the tone of her voice I slid off of the hospital bed and wrapped my arms around my mother, comforting her. The smell of soot and iron and Mother's sweet floral scent enclosed me and I was trying not to cry, too.

I thought I'd never see any of them again.

I pressed my cheek against hers and took in shaky breaths, not thinking about how much it hurt me or how filthy I was getting her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into her shoulder honestly, closing my eyes tight. "We didn't…we didn't get all of them. I'm sorry."

"All of what, dear?" Mother drew away, putting one of her worn hands on my face.

With a flood of snot out of my nose and mouth, a sob rumbled from my throat, followed by another, and I burst out in tears. Everything that I'd been holding in—or tried to hold in—poured out of me violently. Like a child again, I clung onto my mother and bawled into her chest, pride not mattering.

"Oh, Katniss," Mother crooned, stroking my filthy hair back with her hand. "You're alright, honey. I've got you."

"It's all gone," I wailed. "Our homes, our-our lives. I didn't—I didn't save them all. Just _gone_."

In an attempt to slow the hiccups I got, I clamped my hands over my lips, but only succeeded in letting the foul taste of blood and ash inside my mouth, making me gag.

"Take a deep breath, Katniss."

I was guided back onto the bed and handed a box of tissue. After blowing my nose several times and downing water from a small paper cup, I was able to breathe normal without having a fit again. I saw the grey and red spots on my mother's lovely cream-colored shirt where we held each other, and the smears across her cheek.

I was about to apologize when a hesitant knock came from the door and it opened.

Dr. Tyrwhitt entered. He accepted my recognizing, raised eyebrows and terrible mess of a person with his usually good-natured smile that creased his eyes.

"I'd say it's a pleasure to see you again, Katniss," he began, going over to the sink to wash his hands, "but that would not be quite suited. You've had a rough time of it, I see?"

Trying not to cry again, I nodded. Dr. Tyrwhitt was my doctor years ago, before District 12 was rebuilt after the Quarter Quell. When my original doctor, Dr. Longarden, was taken into custody for malpractice, it was Dr. Tyrwhitt who stepped up and helped me through a very medically traumatizing time in my life. We'd almost gotten to be friends.

My doctor snapped on a pair of blue plastic gloves and put his finger under my chin, tilting my head upwards. "Now, let's have a look at you…"

It turned out I only needed a few stitches in each hand, and my eardrums were salvageable to the point of not actually needed surgery to get them working again. With stinging alcohol pads all of my scrapes were cleaned off and a small burn on my calf was bandaged in a waterproof wrap.

Peeta was mostly alright, too, with the exception of a broken toe where it must have gotten trampled on.

After getting patched up, we were dismissed with a proud shake of our hands and a reassurance that everyone brought from Twelve would be taken care of.

On the walk back to our room, Mother and Prim refused to let go of me. Prim hadn't said a word; she clung to one of my throbbing hands as though it was a lifeline. When both of my sides were occupied, Peeta hung back, guiding our son. Forest had stayed mostly quiet, too, and resisted begging for my attention.

It was a wonder, really, how I managed not to begin crying again. Though the terrifying images of the bombing were still in my head, the kind fingers of my family kept me in the present.

Back in our room, I took a long shower, scrubbing all the soot and blood off my skin and hair and dressed in a heavy white gown. Upon seeing I was suited for touching, Forest crawled up into my arms.

I held him tightly, lips pressed against his soft blond hair.

"Grandmamma said she didn't think you and Daddy were coming back. "Forest lifted his head up off my shoulder.

Mother and Prim were sitting together on their bed, silent and looking weary. They didn't say anything, and neither did Peeta, who was in the shower.

My thoughts flitted over the image of the Justice Building going up in flames and I shivered. "…I didn't think we were either, love, but it's nothing you should be worried about."

"Why?"

I pressed my lips to his forehead. "Because I'll always come back to you."

At that moment, the bathroom door opened and Peeta came out in a pair of pajama bottoms and his undershirt. He saw Forest and me standing in the middle of the room and came over, giving us both kisses on the cheeks.

"Peeta," I said suddenly, without really thinking, "I want to see if there are any survivors."

That hadn't been intentional, but instead of taking it back, I just bit my lip and stared at him.

"Absolutely not," he said, expression turning angry, but he immediately stopped himself, smoothing his expression to one vacant of emotion. "Never mind. We are not discussing it here."

Mother stood up from her bed, cautiously walking over to us, lacing her fingers in front of her. "We'll watch Forest if you'd like to…talk things over in private."

The thought of Forest leaving my arms made me tighten them. "We're okay."

Feeling Peeta's eye boring into mine, it was hard ignoring him.

"Maybe that's a good idea, Katniss," he suggested, but the tone of voice was insistent.

Wincing inwardly, I gave in and sighed. "…Alright."

Forest didn't question it, and let me tuck him in Prim's bed. He stayed quiet through the castle song—which he insisted on me singing—and was quiet straight up until I pulled the blanket up to his chin and touched his nose with a fingertip.

"G'night, Mama," he said, hugging my neck with his short arms.

I stroked back a bit of his blond hair. "I'll be back in a bit, okay? You behave." He nodded. "I love you, Forest."

"Love you, too, Mama." Forest rested his head back and closed his eyes.

It was hard not having an emotional breakdown right there. I could still _hear_ the screams, still taste the ash and destruction on my tongue, still feel the earth-shaking effects as bomb after bomb slammed into the ground and _destroyed_. One of the most petrifying feelings I've ever had in my life was the feeling that I wouldn't get to say goodbye to anyone I loved before leaving.

I hugged Mother and Prim twice before practically getting dragged out of the room.

Normally we'd check in with the head of whoever ran that department, but Peeta and I didn't bother doing such a thing and just chose a vacant room two sectors off, flipping the "occupied" sign on the doorknob over.

Once inside, Peeta leaned with his back up against the door, pressing his palms into his eyes, while I stood a few feet away, wringing my hands nervously and keeping my mouth shut.

When I saw him raise his head and begin to say something, I tried interrupting him but he interrupted me interrupting him.

"First off, Katniss, I want you to know you play a more important role in this little _game_ than just Mockingjay." Peeta detached himself from the doorway to stand in front of me. His arms were loose at his sides and his body was relaxed enough, but the creases in his face showed worry and upset and caution.

I wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but I didn't.

"Katniss…"

He said my name as though it was worth it.

"…I'm not angry at you for going off to rescue those people." Peeta touched the side of my face gently, tracing invisible lines where tears had ran earlier. "In fact, that was braver and meant more to anyone than anything I'd ever could do. You did all that was in your power, and when it risked your own life to save other people, you took that chance."

He let out a bitter laugh. "I know some day I'll have to admit that I can't protect you from everything always. I…I forgive you for putting yourself out there. I'm not upset. I promise. But…"

"But what?" My mouth was dry, and I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say, I just didn't want him to say it.

Still, Peeta didn't answer the question right away.

"I don't mind you being a soldier, Katniss." He rolled his eyes in an attempt of nonchalance, but there was wetness in his eyes and a sort of stiffness to his voice. When he looked back on me I could see the stars in the navy blue of his irises. "That's the girl I fell in love with. Strong, unafraid."

Peeta seemed to be having trouble speaking; his words broke every few seconds and every breath shook with threatening tears.

"_I'm _afraid," he whispered, and unexpectedly pulled me against him, bringing my face between his hands and pressing our bodies against each other's, noses just barely an inch apart. "I love you being who you are, but I can't let that be who you were today. I can't…I can't raise Forest on my own."

With two pearly tears, Peeta finally cracked, sobs in the form of hissing slipping out between gritted teeth and painfully scrunched eyes. "He can't grow up without a mother. He just _can't_."

To the rawness and sincerity etched in every spoken syllable, I felt something wiggle up into my throat and settle there, a lump so big I had to take several deep, quivering breaths to avoid releasing a waterfall of tears onto the breast of Peeta's shirt.

"I don't…" I hiccupped, weakly trying to defend myself. "I don't put myself in danger. I don't want to get killed."

"Not everything is in your power." Peeta's hands knotted in the hair in the back of my head and he rested our foreheads together, shaking as though I was the only thing keeping him from crumbling over. "Sometimes things happen that you aren't ready for. That _no one's_ ready for. Winning the Games was a coincidence, Katniss. We can't think the odds are in our favor. We have a child now."

Strangely, he let out a watery laugh and reached to wipe tears with the back of his hand. "A beautiful, sweet baby boy that we'll always be able to call ours and I-I can't stand the thought of either of us being without you."

Drips ran from both of my eyes in a race, though I let them. Someone was raking knives lengthwise down my chest.

"He needs you so much more than he needs me."

"That's not true…" I couldn't argue about our son anymore. I pulled away from Peeta, furious for some reason, and stomped a few feet backwards, pulling my hair out by its roots. "I _have_ to go back for them. People have _died_ because of me." Noiseless sobs were now making my innards quaver.

"Is dying for them so much better than staying home for your family? Huh? Would you rather die trying to pick through a warzone to rescue people that may or may not be able to be rescued, or would you want to stay with the people who love you? Watch your son grow up?"

…

A moment followed when nothing was said.

I couldn't breathe for the tears in my throat, I couldn't see for the tears in my eyes, I couldn't _move_.

My heart was ripped open.

But why wasn't it bleeding?

I felt the beat of my heart slog thickly, as though working in molasses.

I saw Peeta standing there, face wet, shoulders hunched with sorrow. He had a defiant look upon his eyes, though, and when he opened his arms I was sucked back into them unintentionally. He rubbed his thumb between my shoulder blades and whispered words of comfort into my ear, right up until I could no longer hear them over my uncontrollable hiccups.

"Why don't you go sit on the bed?" Peeta said, drawing his arms back from me. "I'll get you some water."

Since unable to answer with real, intelligible words, I nodded and dragged myself over to the crisp, tidy bed and sat down while he disappeared into the bathroom.

No thoughts formed properly in my head. They were all either partial, just snippets of words and feelings so strong it felt like they were burning the back of my throat.

I had to find the survivors.

If there were any.

It was my _job_.

But so was being a mother.

I thought I'd be careful.

But the way Peeta put it…

Just, _why_?

I wrapped my arms around my legs and rested my chin on top of them, closing my eyes and feeling more warm tears on my cheeks. I couldn't face the thought of leaving my family all alone any more than I could face the thought of people out there in District 12—maybe my friends, maybe people I knew—right now suffering, dying, some even dead.

"Someone else can rescue the survivors," I whispered, in an attempt to convince myself against whatever ideas I had, "but no one else can be a mother to my son."

"…You've got that right."

Peeta came over to sit next to me just as I opened my eyes, pressing a glass of water in my hands. He mimicked my drawn-knees position and rested his head sideways on them, watching me with his usual soft expression, lips parted slightly and eyelashes casting tiny shadows on his lower lid. Though there were still traces of his earlier misery, he looked a lot better emotionally.

I couldn't help but touch the corner of one of his eyes where a dried tear stained it, tilting my head like his. "…I'm sorry I scared you."

His mouth curved up a little bit. "I'm sorry you're so scary."

In a time of death we both managed to laugh.

"Hold on," I said to him, standing up off the bed. As he watched, I went over to the light switch and turned it off, bathing the room in blackness, all except for thin bars of yellow peeking out from the partially-open bathroom door. Using what little light there was to see by, I tiptoed across the room and crawled back up onto the bed, stretching out and waiting for Peeta to join me staring at the ceiling.

Of course, he did, and after a few minutes of laying on our backs blinking up at nothing at all, he twisted his head to look at me. "So is that a deal?"

"Is what a deal?" Through the corner of my eyes I looked back at him.

"You won't run off without me ever again? Or run off, period?"

"I'll never run off," I promised, turning onto my side to face him. "But…what about the people still in District Twelve?" Fear wrung inside of me yet again. "I can't…help look for them?"

"I'm sure they're going to hold a search party in the morning." Though Peeta's voice was quite confident, he was visibly biting his lower lip with anxiety. "Still, it'll be best if you stayed. You know that."

"But what if…What if they miss one? What if something happens? If I could be there I could…I could help. Somehow." I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest. "Someone's in pain out there. Someone. They're going to be too late… I need to help. I feel so _useless_ sitting here in safety, so _weak_ making someone else to do such an important job…"

"Oh, Katniss,"

I took a shaky breath as Peeta cupped one of his hands around the side of my neck, his thumb tracing back and forth comfortingly. "You're never useless _or_ weak. The only job you have is to stay here and be a mother to Forest. You made sure Coin didn't put that in the job description. You're not required to fight."

"But I agreed to be the Mockingjay…"

"Your family needs you more than the armies."

Perhaps at one point in my life I would have been offended by that but right then I knew he was right. More than I wanted him to be. I loved my family… My mother and my sweet little sister and my son and my…my Peeta. I needed them just as much as they needed me.

The rebellion can find another mascot.

I stretched over to kiss Peeta, and just when a tiny gasp of breath bubbled between our lips, I pulled away and turned back onto my back, letting my eyes slip closed.

Peeta was still on his side. He put his forehead against my shoulder and slid his splayed-fingered hand onto my stomach. I knew he was thinking of those few years ago before I got captured. Though I was only a month pregnant, we'd lounge around and he'd have this…obsession with my stomach. It was adorable, of course, and I didn't mind, but he never got the chance to be with me as it grew. We saw each other occasionally the months leading up to Forest's birth, but I didn't think that counted.

Pregnancy was…in my opinion, it was one of the best parts of having a kid. I loved Forest more than anything, but I also loved the feeling of him being inside of me. The first time I was pregnant…

God, I hated thinking about that.

I hated thinking of _her_ just because it hurt so much.

It was strange how right before the Quell Peeta had announced my false pregnancy and just a couple months after… And it was the Capitol's fault…

That moment during the Quarter Quell when were lying on our backs looking up at the brilliantly purple sky. I knew I wouldn't make it out, or at least, I _thought_. Our hands were entwined, our heads bent close to one another's.

"_If you die, and I live, there would be no life for me back in District Twelve. You're my whole life. I would never be happy again."_

I felt Peeta's hand shift slightly and he raised his head to put his chin on my shoulder instead. "What are you thinking about?"

"The Quell," I answered honestly back in the same muted whisper, and then shifted my head so I could meet his eyes. "Do you remember…?"

Before I could finish, a small smile was stretching across his mouth. "…Yeah. One of the better memories of the Games."

"The fact that many experienced killers were out after us made it even better." The sarcasm was not masked from my voice. I looked back away, memories and expression sour. "…The Quell was terrible."

Peeta snuck his chin higher on my shoulder, putting his face closer to mine. "I thought it was better than the Games the year before."

"_Worse…"_ I muttered.

"The Games were terribly gruesome and bloody. After the bloodbath in the Quell, we barely saw any—"

"Peeta," I interrupted in two sharp syllables. "I watched you die." Pause. "Worse."

Peeta didn't say anything.

Serves him right for being so insensitive about his own death.

Still sporting the sour look, I looked away. "You know, just because we're in District 13 doesn't mean we're entirely safe."

Still, silence.

"It makes me wonder why they haven't put us in a lockdown like last time."

"That was Snow," Peeta said quietly. "He was about attack and strategy. But… You know Gale best. You know how he hunts."

How he hunts…

That never really occurred to me.

He was hunting me.

Oh, the sweet irony.

And I _did_ know how he hunted.

That only made me more afraid.

Peeta sensed my concern and tucked his arms around me more securely, giving me a kiss at the base of my neck where the nightgown didn't cover. "Don't worry, love. I'll keep you safe. He won't get you."

Hating the sense of dread and all of the seriousness, I could help but try a smile at him and lean against him. "Because you got to me first. You have me."

He seemed to accept my attempted change of attitude graciously and smiled, too. He wiggled his fingers on my waist. "Yes, I do. You'll all mine."

Thoughts played in my head sort like the end credits of a movie, getting farther and farther away until they vanished. I could feel Peeta's arms around my waist, everywhere they touched me, his breath on my neck and the small, hopeful smile on his lips.

"I'll be right back," I whispered, and carefully slipped out of his embrace to vanish behind the closed door of the bathroom.

My heart beat heavily in my ears.

The truth of the words I said earlier weighed on my mind like a million tons.

_Just because we're in District 13 doesn't mean we're entirely safe._

What if tomorrow Gale decides to change tactics?

I didn't even know what his tactics were. All I knew was that _yes_, he wasn't direct offense like Snow.

He was the trap-and-snare type.

There was no telling when I'd fall in.

What if he abandoned his original plan and came tomorrow?

Would we be ready?

I've heard so little of an army, though surely Coin had one ready…

I had to protect my family.

I had to protect Forest.

If they come tomorrow, would that make tonight mine and Peeta's last night for…so long?

I hated the amount of likelihood that that contained. I hated thinking about Peeta back in the room, laying on his back, waiting for me.

Did he know what I was thinking?

Did he have any idea?

Was he thinking about it right then?

I only wanted one thing.

Trying to swallow nerves, I turned the knob of the bathroom door, no less collected than I was when I went in.

**PEETA'S POV**

My thoughts had wandered sufficiently when the bathroom door opened again and I was forced to open my eyes again and look over.

For a second I felt my pupils constricting painfully, trying to get adjusted to the harsh light of the bathroom. Katniss' form stood—a silhouette—uncertainly in the doorway. I couldn't see her face, but I saw she was holding something. As she walked closer, I realized it was her clothes.

My lips parted in an unasked question.

When Katniss saw my expression, she shook her head.

I watched her sit carefully on the edge of the bed silently. My eyes had adjusted to the light then, and the curve of her back was visible, a shadow tracing up her slim figure until it was hidden by a rush of black hair which she'd undone from its braid. My heart began beating forcefully against of my throat and my stomach began to get the butterflies.

What was…? Did she mean…?

After a few minutes, Katniss' head turned halfway towards me and her silhouette created a perfect profile of her face. "…You remember what you said to me that day during the Quell?"

Licking my dry lips nervously, I answered, "I don't know. I said a lot of things to you."

"About if I died, then there would be no life for you. That I was…that I was your whole life."

Suddenly, I remembered, not moving an inch from my position but not taking my eyes off of Katniss. "…That I would never be happy again…"

She nodded and paused again, turning a little farther so our eyes actually met. Her expression was light, but she was not smiling. "If something _did_ happen to me…"

"Hold on," I shook my head and propped my upper body up on one of my elbows. "Could you lay down and actually face me? You're making me nervous, Katniss."

Despite the fact that she was… unclothed, Katniss had no problem scooting back and slipping her legs under the covers, finally laying down on her side to face me. Her hair spilled around her head like a fan.

I didn't ask her to lay down so I could see her body better, but it was hard _not_ looking. I forced myself to close my eyes and breathe a little before opening them again. "Nothing's going to happen to you," I promised, with a lump in my throat, putting my hand on her cheek.

"Like you said, Peeta, accidents happen." A small, sarcastic smile touched her lips. Katniss seemed to be glad to use what I said against me. "If something _did_ happen…I just don't want to go to bed with you angry at me."

She thought I was angry at her?

It wasn't anger. It was fright. She forgot that—yes, she did watch me die, but I watched _her_ die, too. I was so afraid of losing her and having to raise Forest alone. I didn't know anything about children, though I've spent months with one as my son. How could I go on? I couldn't raise him. He needed a mother, he needed…

"I'm not angry at you." To my own ears, my voice sounded choppy and distressed. I tried to make them a little more even and controlled. "I'm angry at Gale. Not you. It's him I don't trust, not you. I'm never angry at you."

"Yes, you are."

"Okay, _sometimes_," I gave her, "but rarely. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that I'm not angry at you _now_, and I wouldn't have gone to bed upset."

Katniss rolled her eyes. "So I got undressed for no reason at all?"

"I appreciate it," it was hard not laughing, but as I said that, I put one of my arms around her waist, "but if you only wanted to sleep with me as a bribe, you might as well put your knickers back on. I don't mean to be a party pooper."

She actually laughed, looking away from me. Even in the dim light I could see the blush on her face. "You're not a party pooper. And it wasn't a bribe."

"A peace offering?"

"Never mind, _Peeta_." Tucking the covers up to her chin, Katniss flipped onto her other side and snuggled into the pillows, feigning upset. "Forget I ever mentioned it."

"…You never _actually_ mentioned it…"

She didn't say anything.

I loved how we could do that, even in the middle of a war. It was hard not to smile, so I did, and bent over to kiss Katniss' temple. And she _still_ didn't turn back around or say anything when I stood up off the bed momentarily to tug my trousers off.

Katniss always claimed she wasn't so pure, but we both knew she was. Notwithstanding the past months when we got used to having each other around again, she was still the same girl I fell in love with years ago. The same girl I love today. She always will be.

"Katniss…" I teased lightly, slipping back under the covers with her, feeling the curve of her shoulder blades on my bare chest as I scoot closer to get her attention.

She grunted and rolled onto her stomach, arms sprawled out in front of her. Silver eyes peeked through her hair. "…Peeta?"

Was she mocking my tone or was that a question?

I just rolled onto my stomach as well, crossed my arms under my chin, and blinked at her.

"I love you." Her expression betrayed no emotion other than determination. "No matter what happens tomorrow."

That's the spirit. Keep on fighting.

Letting a sigh slip from my mouth, I leaned over to kiss her between the eyes. "I love you, too, Katniss. I do."

After a brief moment of silence, she fluttered her eyes open again and a smirk stretched across her pretty, olive face. "You're not wearing any clothes, are you?"

"Nope."

Katniss snorted, but the smile didn't leave. "Okay."

"You'll allow it?"

Recollection softened her face and she put her forehead against my chest. "…I'll allow it."

**GALE's POV**

I sat in a chair in front of a screen. Messages blipped on and off in every corner, a topographic map displayed in the center with shapes representing various structures. The entire screen was marked up and had notes plastered to it between the messages and was filled with information of all sorts. Despite my position, I didn't know what most of it meant.

"Mr. Hawthorne," said a voice from behind me and I spun around in my chair.

Greyson Scennor, one of my coordinators, was standing there holding a clipboard. "Should we ready another deposit of shells in Craft #80?"

"Shells?" I frowned. "No. I think you've fired plenty today, thank you."

"Well, I thought—"

"You also thought he'd be in the Justice Building, Mr. Scennor, but he wasn't, and you just ended up in blowing up my entire home district. Maybe you should let someone else do the thinking for once." I spun back to face the massive screen where the time blinked **"**_**8:03**_**" **in bold letters. We hadn't been at rest for too long, but I was already tired. "Where's General Sawyer, by the way?"

Mr. Scennor shifted weight onto his other foot. "He's organizing the soldiers for tonight."

I touched the monitor where a small red dot was blinking between the topographical lines. "How many?"

"Hundred-fifty first in queue, two-hundred backup if anything goes wrong."

"Perfect. Hey, Mr. Scennor," I leaned over and squinted at the dot on the screen. "What does this red blip mean exactly?"

Greyson leaned over with me and frowned. "That would be one of our sensors going off. Seems as though someone found something."

Great. Titling back in my chair, I let out a loud sigh. "I suppose we should start up the hovercrafts again."

"Yes, sir." He ducked his head and left.

That was a shame. We'd found a very safe, hidden spot to camp out north of District 13 so we could travel to the districts without those painfully long flights.

I didn't necessarily like the bombs. In fact, I hated it. That was my home.

But there was no choice.

I rolled a small, smooth object in between my fingers while staring off at a wall. Two nights solid without any sleep, and yet I still thought about the same thing.

Her. The both of them.

Letting an exasperated hiss escape my teeth, I stood up, setting the object on the table before leaving.

In the blue, flashing lights of the monitor, the metal of the pearl ring sparkled with a sort of multicolored pulse. Like a heartbeat.

**PEETA'S POV**

It was half an hour later, and I wasn't tired. There I lay, partially-stretched across Katniss' torso as she was sitting up halfway on the headboard. At first when things calmed down, there was a long period of time when we just laid there. It was a kind of odd, switching places, but she let me use her shoulder as a pillow and with her free hand, she played with my hair, twisting it around her fingers.

Then she began singing.

I was in a half-unconscious sort of daze when I heard the first note break the silence.

It had been a long time since Katniss had sang to _me_.

But why then?

I didn't interrupt or even turn to look up at her while she sang.

The words were hushed and a little rough, but sank through my skin into my bones.

In the middle of her third song it began getting quiet until—after a time where I hadn't heard a single note for several minute—I glanced up and found she'd fallen asleep. Her head had fallen onto her hand, eyes closed and face smoothed out. I could see the scars on her head, the circles under her eyes, but she looked so much calmer while she slept.

For a while I laid there with her, feeling the rise and fall of Katniss' chest as she breathed moved me from underneath. No matter how lulling it was, I couldn't find it possible to close my own eyes and go to sleep. That was probably for the better, seeing as how we _technically_ were expected back in the other room with Ms. Everdeen, Prim and Forest, but I didn't have the heart to wake her. Plus, I knew that neither of us were ready to put on clothes and pretend we were okay again.

I was just thankful I'd convinced her out of running off in the middle of the night to go get herself killed. At least…I hoped I convinced her out of it. She thought it was her responsibility to find the survivors but it _wasn't_. It just wasn't.

She was to be a mother to our son and…and maybe it was selfish, but she had to stay alive for me so I could watch her wake up, so I could hold her hands in mine, so I could make her breakfast and laugh about condoms with her and take walks with her in town. Without that I would be nothing. She was the best part of me. She was more important than the air I breathe.

Realizing I would never get to sleep, I carefully sat up and began pulling on my undershorts.

Katniss grunted behind me. "…Peeta?"

When I looked back, her eyes were still closed and her mouth still hung open with sleep. Thinking she was sleep-talking, I didn't answer until one of her eyes peeled open—but closed immediately after.

"Where you going?" she asked in a slurred, half-intelligible voice.

I leaned back, propping my elbow up on the other side of her, and whispered, "I can't sleep. I'm just going to pace outside."

After a pause that was about forty-five seconds long, Katniss grunted again. "Mmf… Have fun…"

"Sleep well." I kissed the corner of her mouth and stood up from the bed. "I'll be back soon."

My trousers were tugged on, and I was starting out the door while pulling on my shirt, but I heard Katniss from behind me.

"…I love you," she mumbled, but when I looked back at her, she was back asleep.

Heart feeling a little heavier, I left the room and slumped down the hall.

How do I fix that? I wanted to fix her, to make her happy. But I didn't blame her for being upset. Hell, we're all upset. This is a _war_, and the person responsible for it was her best friend.

I wished I could do something to help, but there was nothing.

Mindlessly, I wandered down hallways, passing very few people on my way. None of them paid a great deal of attention to me, so I didn't pay any attention to them. My eyes stayed trained to the floor as I walked, hands shoved in pockets.

_What to do?_

"Mellark,"

My head snapped up at the sound of my name, and I found Finnick Odair standing in my path.

I didn't miss a beat. "Odair," I replied in the same arrogant, kind of mimicking voice, blinking.

"You on your way to the Scavenge, too?" he asked, crossing her arms over his chest curiously. Overgrown bronze curls fell into his squinting eyes, but he didn't look tired.

A frown curled across my mouth. "Scavenge?"

"Yeah, there's a team of like fifteen heading off for District 12 in about an hour to see if there's anything salvageable or any survivors." Finnick shrugged. "I'm going."

Was that some insane coincidence or a sign? I wasn't sure if I believed in "signs" but my conversation with Katniss and this tie in just too well to be a coincidence. Maybe some creep was eavesdropping on us and knew I'd be drawn to it. Maybe it was already planned and a whisper of it drew the idea to my mind earlier. Or maybe it was on _everyone's_ mind and I just needed to go, for myself and for Katniss.

When I finally blinked and brought myself back to the present, Finnick had an eyebrow raised at my short-lived distraction.

"So…are you coming? Or staying?"

"Coming," I said automatically, making up my mind within a matter of milliseconds. It took no further deciding to begin following Finnick in the direction he was first headed.

He displayed no obvious signs of fatigue, like I noted when I first saw him. In fact, he was enthusiastic and seemed brimming with energy. "So, where's Katniss? Are you going to talk to her before going?"

My lips pursed. "She's asleep right now. But I don't think telling her would be best."

"Why? She doesn't want you to take all the glory?" For a moment Finnick smirked, but then his expression turned hard. "Actually, Annie didn't want me going either. We sort of had a fight."

"Yeah…" I grimaced at the floor. "Except with me, I was the one trying to convince _her_ not to go risk her life. Irony just loves me today."

"Did you manage to convince her? Or did you knock her out to sneak away?"

Feeling almost resentful, I gave Finnick a terribly wounded look—though it was probably more dramatic than my feelings really were. "Of course not. She fell asleep and I couldn't. Why am I telling you these things again?"

"Because we have more in common than you want to admit—asides from being less attractive than yours truly, that is."

When I didn't ask, he filled in the silence with an answer.

"We've both gone through the Games," Finnick began. "Twice. We've lost and we've sacrificed and against all odds we have beautiful wives, children that we'd do anything to protect, lives that used to be somewhat stable before the event that shook everyone. And now that hell has broken loose again, it's a struggle holding our families together."

He paused. "We find ourselves in the same situation, Mellark. I do believe we are nearly at an impasse. And yet we find the ability to leave our wives and sons in the middle of the night just for the sole purpose of making sure _they_ stay put."

The truth to his words made me silent for the rest of our walk. There was a slightly less-awkward pause than before, only appeased by the mutual situation he spoke aloud moments before.

In fact, things were silent all the way up until we got to a room with large double-doors that were propped open by a small wooden wedge.

Once inside, we were greeted by a number of people, one of which I recognized from Katniss' team earlier today: the bodyguard, Torrid. His eyes flicked over to me and Finnick.

"If you're here to join the Scavenge team, we have enough members, Soldiers Mellark and Odair."

"What?" both Finnick and I said.

"Can't you fit in just two more?" I asked, feeling an unexplainable urge to go _do something_. "We have to go."

"I'm sorry." Torrid shook his head and reached behind him to a stack of papers. "We've got all we need."

"Let them go," muttered another official behind Torrid, an olive-skinned woman in her late forties, with streaks of grey through her short, dark hair. "It won't make any difference."

"They have no training."

"Have you forgot earlier today?"

"How could I forget?" Torrid asked grimly. "I was there. I was responsible for Soldier Everdeen."

"It's actually Mellark," I said shortly, crossing my arms. "And she's the reason I'm going."

Both officials stood, arms crossed, examining Finnick and me through narrowed eyes for a long while before Torrid let out a conceding huff. "You'd better be back in thirty-five minutes to gear up, or we're leaving without you."

The woman didn't look at us while jotting our names on a piece of paper stuck to a clipboard.

Releasing a sigh of relief, I thanked them, as did Finnick.

"I'm waiting here," Finnick announced, taking a seat in a chair to our left. "I'll see you in thirty-five minutes, then, Peeta?"

It was surprising for him to use my real first name. Oddly impressed, I nodded my head at him. "With hope. I have to…do something about Katniss."

"Good luck."

His grimace was the last thing I saw before leaving the room.

What to tell Katniss… Should I leave without saying anything in hopes to be back before she wakes?

No. That's _her_ approach with disobedience, not mine. Though it wasn't technically "disobedience" I still needed to tell her in some way. If anything went wrong, she needed some explanation. It was her right. It was Forest's right.

I was still confused and hesitant when I walked back into our unregistered room.

Katniss, of course, was still asleep. Her mouth was open slightly, one hand pressed against her cheek, breathing lightly with dreams I hoped were good.

Only pausing to brush the back of my hand across her cheek gently, I pulled a sheet of paper and a pencil from the nightstand drawer and closed myself into the bathroom.

What to tell her?

I started out with "_Katniss_…" but erased it, deciding a header was too formal. Maybe humor was the better way to go about this. No… The Scavenge wasn't a death sentence, though. It should be relatively safe, right? She had nothing to worry about. I wasn't writing a letter to say goodbye, it was a letter to tell her not to hate me and to stay put until I came back and that I loved her.

A paragraph in, I realized that it was stupid, erased it, and then started over.

_Please don't hate me forever, but I'm gone in District 12 on a scavenge team to look for survivors._ I began again. _You wanted to make a difference, to be a part of everything, and I didn't want you to risk your life to do exactly what I'm doing right now, but don't get any ideas._ _I'm doing it for you._

I went on doing my best explaining what I was going to do in the safest-sounding way. I would find survivors for her. I would bring back pieces of her old life to her. I would _come back_.

_I've been thinking about what you said about the survivors,_ I kept writing. _About the families._ _Is it selfish of me to only be thinking of you and Forest while searching? About how glad it is that we're the ones that got away and not them?_ _I keep imagining what it would be like during the bombing if you didn't come right back with all of those people. If the rounds_ _ended and you weren't back, if I went out to look for you and you didn't_—

I stopped, my pencil poised above the sheet.

My hand was shaking and my breath was coming in short little pants, I realized. To calm myself, I closed my eyes and took several moments before continuing.

What _would_ it have been like? A world without her scowl, without her sweet little grunt-snores, without waking up to her getting out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, always pretending to not care that she wasn't clothed but her face being beet-red. What would I do without that?

It was unintentional, the hiss that escaped my lips the moment after, and I folded up the letter to her, shoving it in my back pocket. If I went out crying she would surely wake up. And wonder what I was doing. I couldn't tell her. I couldn't admit that I was doing just what I'd made her promise not to do.

My hands gripped the edges of the sink as I stared down the little black drain.

And if I _didn't_ come back? To leave her a widow at age-23 to raise a kid. It would break her.

But I was coming back. I had to.

"Peeta?"

The bathroom door opened, startling me. Katniss stood there in her gown, hair messy, but eyes bright and worried. One of her hands curled around the doorframe, holding her halfway inside the bathroom.

I was aware of the tears on my cheeks and hastily wiped them away, cursing myself in my head for crying. It wasn't even a good reason.

Katniss stood there, silent, for a minute before taking another step in. "…Are you okay?"

"I'm alright," I promised her, lying. "It's nothing."

"…Why didn't you wake me?" She touched one of my hands, which were still clamped on the edge of the counter.

"You needed the sleep." Unclenching it to wind our fingers together, I murmured, "I didn't want you to see me cry."

Lips still pursed and eyebrows still furrowed with worry, Katniss drew her hands up and wiped both thumbs under my eyes, taking the last of my tears with them. "You always tell me it's okay to cry. Does that not apply to you?"

Through the wetness in my throat, I let out a laugh and put my arms around her, burying my face in her hair. "Of course not."

A few minutes passed we held each other. She didn't ask why I was up and crying over the bathroom sink, and I didn't tell her I was going to be leaving in a few minutes.

"…We should get back to Forest and your mother and Prim."

Letting her go, I went back into the room and peeled the sheets off of the bed, shoving them down the laundry chute. We were both dressed, so I just took her hand and we walked back to where Ms. Everdeen, Prim and our son was sleeping soundly. Ms. Everdeen was sleeping in her normal bed, while Primrose and Forest dominated the other, curled around each other's delicate forms.

"I'm not going to be able to sleep," I said in a hushed voice to Katniss after closing the room door. "Why don't you get in bed, I'll tuck you in?"

To my little smile, Katniss gave me her own and squeezed my hand before crawling into bed next to her little sister and Forest. The movement didn't wake either one of them, and when there was little risk of waking anyone up, I walked over and tucked the covers up to her chin.

"See you in the morning," she whispered to me, closing her eyes.

_Hopefully_.

"See you in the morning," I agreed, pressing my lips just briefly to hers.

I only had to wait a few minutes before she fell asleep, and I set the folded-up piece of paper on the nightstand.

Before leaving, I kissed Forest on the forehead, and just to be safe, Primrose as well.

No one woke up.

In the dark of night, I left my family to go back to District 12, where certain horrors may or may not awaited me.

**oOo**

_Jeez, that last sentence was terrible. Anyways…_

_Just so it's clear, when it left Peeta's POV when he and Katniss were joking around naked, I'd like to think they ended up sleeping together. Just for clarification. ;)_

_But you guys did raise a very good point about why I didn't get a lot of reviews… You thought the story was pretty much done, didn't you?_

_That's my fault, of course, I take the blame. I should have made it clearer, but my mind has been foggy lately in the sense of writing. Forgive my incompetence and take comfort in knowing I will never leave you—that is, without a proper goodbye._


	24. Chapter 24

_(I wasn't going to put an A/N in, but just to let you know, next chapter is going to be really short. I couldn't put it at the end, but you'll understand why.)_

**oOo**

On the hovercraft, I was jittery with nerves. Before leaving I'd been decked out in a full-black suit and helmet, and equip with a heavy, dangerous gun. The hovercraft all eighteen of us were on was very tiny, very cramped, and the quietest craft I'd ever heard. Its propellers whirred only with the hum like an electric fence. Shoulder-to-shoulder with every man in there, we were covered in sweat and cramping within a matter of seconds. Also within a matter of seconds, Torrid—or "Captain" as he had us call him—was standing near the front of the craft, letting his voice boom out over the damp locks of my fellow soldiers.

"So here's the game plan, soldiers," he said, running a hand over his short, bristly hair. "We're splitting you into two teams: one for the town, one for the forest around the town. The fittest, most trained, most capable of us are going to search the town and surrounding houses inside the fence for survivors and any usable items left in the wreckage."

Captain paused. "…The soldiers on this team have the highest risk of something bad happening. A little birdy told us that the Capitol would have its own forces in District 12 doing the exact same thing very shortly, so we're getting the job done, it's vital to make this trip short and sweet."

Inwardly I hoped to get divided into that part of the team, just because I have a higher chance of finding something that makes my entire trip justifiable, despite the incredible risk.

Next to me, Finnick's eyes were narrowed in concentration as he shouldered his gun uncomfortably. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was.

"The second team, being sent in to the forest, will be smaller." Captain Torrid –unable to pace like he loved to do—shifted his weight from foot to foot, knocking his gear against adjacent soldiers sitting down on either side of him. "If by any chance a survivor had the common sense to escape the town into the woods, you are to hunt them down and radio in the backup we have flying invisible behind us.

"The girth we have on you in the forest will be limited to an extent, but much safer." He cleared his throat and tugged out a clipboard from an inside jacket pocket, scanning it with his wrinkled eyes. "For the team sent into town, I have Adeine, Ender, Jacobson, Kennt, Kruze, Loois, Marshall, Prestin, Samuels, and Warren. You will be issues radios and headlamps when we get to the ground."

Ten people cramped in the hovercraft hissed quiet cheers, smacking awkward high-fives, though their names read out could possibly have been a death sentence.

It was hard not to feel disappointed. _That's okay,_ I told myself, trying not to be too bitter. _That way you have a better chance of returning back to Katniss. This is a good thing._

Captain flipped the page over on his clipboard. "For the forest team…"

Finnick and I exchanged looks. Our names, of course, would be on it.

"…There is Browning, Cecile, Garret, Mellark, Odair, Verren, and York. You, also, will be given radios and headlamps, but will receive tracker bracelets on the ground in hopes that they would be harder to track for the enemies out obscured by the trees."

After a pause that was a lot less excited than the first, Captain announced that there was ten minutes until landing, and then left to go back into the cockpit.

Finnick dug his elbow into my ribs, which may or may not have been intentional. "I've got your back, loverboy," he promised with his usual smirk. But it was different. Nervous.

I was nervous as well, even though the risk was lower.

_For Katniss_, I reminded myself. And when we stopped just outside District 12, filed out, and handed trackers & radios, I was so hyped up on adrenaline that I found myself pacing and fidgeting with the hot material of my clothes that were sticky with sweat.

"Listen up, soldiers," The captains' voice rang out, silencing all anxious conversation going on over the _whirr_ of the hovercraft propellers. "We have five hours. If you find something interesting, release your signal using the little orange button on the side of your radio and we will know where to come, but don't linger. Split up, stay unnoticed, and stay safe. I'd like to keep most of you alive tonight." He clapped his hands together. "Alright, girls, off you go. Make it worth my time!"

And with no further adieu, all seventeen of us in black gripped the guns on our sides and trotted off in opposite directions. Circles of light from our headlamps danced around, getting smaller and smaller as we dispersed.

"Don't know about you," Finnick panted as he ran beside me, dodging trees as we jogged deeper into the woods, "but I was hoping to get a little more excitement than searching down rabbit holes for five hours. I wanted to actually get something done."

"Yeah," I was of the same opinion, puffing along with him. "I wanted it to be worthwhile leaving Katniss with no explanation other than a hasty letter written on the toilet."

He gave me a look.

About a mile in I had to stop, stumbling to a halt in front of a tree, dropping to a kneel and heaving air in and out of my lungs. Maybe this was why I was put on this team. My legs were out of shape. Peeling the strap off of my shoulder, I tossed my gun to the ground next to me and took a drink from my canteen.

Finnick dropped down next to me. "Yes," he agreed.

On the radio, few voices crackled in and out through the silence as we rested for a minute.

"So how's Annie been doing?" I asked after a few minutes, desperate for some conversation in the blue of oncoming dusk. We still had a good two hours before it became pitch black.

"Good." Finnick shrugged. "She's had some sort of sickness going around and has been off of her feet for a few days, but she's well enough to tend to Jace tonight. Has Katniss gotten it yet? It's spreading like wildfire."

"No, thank goodness." I was about to add on, when Captain's usual cut voice came on on the radio.

_"Listen up, soldiers," _he said, not sounding too incredibly panicked, so I decided not to. _"Our sensors have indicated the presence of a hovercraft other than ours. Don't panic," _he added as the radio crackled with an attempt to take on several calls at once. _"No bombs have been detected, and it is only one so far. I feel that if you stay low for a while, turn your headlamps off, and wait until further instruction the danger will pass. Until we know anything else, I would not be too concerned. Lay low, and keep the radio clear as much as possible."_

With a small _beep_ he left the radio wavelength and we were once again bathed in silence, all except the chirp of cicadas.

Capitol hovercrafts. Of course. Why does the bad luck always happen to us?

Finnick and I clicked our headlamps off as instructed and stood up again.

"Stop looking so spooked," he teased, sounding spooked himself. "We're out in the middle of nowhere, dusk, wearing black. The chances of them finding us are slim."

"The odds have never been in my favor…"

Those words couldn't be truer.

We continued on, slower than before, sticking closer to trees and keeping a keen eye on the sky.

The ground, even that distance away from District 12, was covered in a fine layer of ash from the bombing. I watched my feet as they made prints in the soot. I was stepping on houses my friends lived in, shops I've visited and bought from, worked for. My life, again, was crumbled away in a fire.

As I ran my fingers along an ashy tree, I was not aware Finnick was watching.

I was also not aware my expression had wilted with sorrow.

"…Hey," he said, a little awkwardly, shifting his gun, "I'm sorry about your district. This is the second time… That just sucks."

"To put it lightly," I said bitterly, rubbing the tracker bracelet I had until it chaffed my skin painfully.

"At least Katniss is alright. And Forest. You still have them."

"Yes, but they might not have me after tonight."

"Don't be so pessimistic." He snorted. "I'm just trying to make light of a situation."

Suddenly, a tiny red light caught my eye and my attention was immediately fixated on the side of my tracker. A tiny bulb was blinking.

I couldn't help it.

Tugging the radio from its cord, I held it up to my mouth. "Soldier Mellark to the captain, is someone there trying to get my location?"

After a few seconds, Torrid came on. _"Not that I'm aware of, Soldier. Is your tracker going off?"_

"…There's a blinking red light…" I said stupidly, staring at the light.

_"It's going off." _Captain Torrid sounded exasperated. _"That's not good. Either I gave you a faulty bracelet or someone other than the people here at base are trying to get your location, which is even worse. I've turned it off by remote from here, but no telling what happened."_

As he spoke the light went out as my tracker turned off completely.

"_Are there any other soldiers in sight, Soldier Mellark?"_

"I have Finn—I mean, Soldier Odair with me." I glanced over at Finnick, who was picking at a piece of bark, which was turning the tips of his fingers grey.

"_Split up. We're having similar glitches beginning to our own computers, I don't know what's going on…"_

As if on cue, Finnick's wrist began blinking and the captain had to turn his off as well.

_"I don't know what's happening, but—"_

I accidentally interrupted Torrid with a loud swear word.

The cicadas stopped chirping.

A single whistle sounded.

We watched as hovercrafts, about fifty feet away in opposite directions, materialized and dropped at least twenty-five people each into the forest.

They did not belong to District 13.

They already knew where we were.

"Run!" I shoved Finnick to the right and began sprinting as fast as I could left, perpendicular to the two crafts, but I knew it was no use.

A rush of panic threw my heart up into my throat. Voices behind me shouted, loudly, as footprints slammed against the earth.

Rapid gunfire blasted through the calm silence of evening behind me. I instinctually ducked, but nothing hit me. Trees to my left and right exploded bark off of them as bullets destroyed their skin.

"Captain!" I shouted into the radio.

_"I know, soldier, I—" _The alarmed voice of Captain Torrid was broken off by a ear-splitting screech through the broadcasting, and with an explosion of static like a handful of pebbles thrown on pavement, the connection between me and the Captain was severed.

The voices of Capitol soldiers barked from behind me, hoping to slow my sprint with orders to "halt!" and "drop your weapons!" and "stop right there!" I did no such thing, however, and put on a burst of speed away from the voices.

That turned out to be a mistake. My prosthetic leg caught on a gnarled tree root and I was sailing forwards, crashing into the ground like a broken airplane, skidding my face across dirt and ash. Somewhere in my leg, pain was erupting like fire, pulsing and screaming, making it hard to think.

I remember moaning, and making an attempt to pull myself onto my feet, but it was too late.

Boots pounded on the ground and I heard myself being surrounded. Men shouted at me, the metallic clank of guns being cocked.

I thought I was dead.

I knew I was dead.

Or at least, going to be in a second.

Giving up what little hope I had left, my fingers opened and the rifle fell out onto the leaves.

The few words I actually heard of the people shouting at me managed to blur together, but I felt something hard jab the small of my back, making me sit up.

"I can't…" I groaned, spitting out a mouthful of dirt and blood. People swam in and out of my vision, but I couldn't make out features.

"…_Mellark,_" one of them spat, but then another, sharper, louder voice stopped all of them at once.

"Leave him."

God damn it.

Now I was _really_ screwed.

I knew that voice.

When I focused my eyes to the best of my ability, standing in the middle of a parted crowds of soldiers, was Gale Hawthorn. Of course.

He looked to all the people surrounding me, and then made the shooing motion. "Go pester some other soldiers. I've got this handled."

Muttering "yes sir"s, they shuffled off, obviously disappointed, until it was just Gale and me left.

Silence.

As the pain in my knee slowly throbbed to "not-quite-tolerable," I was able to see and think somewhat clear, but that did not benefit either of us.

About ten feet in front of me Gale stood. His uniform was crisp and ironed, dark hair cut out of his eyes. A gun was being held loosely in his fingers, but not in a readying-for-fire position. That was not the boy I'd been slightly jealous of those years in school, the boy who wore stitched-up clothing to school and hunted illegally with Katniss and traded squirrels with me at the bakery. He was a Capitol citizen. The president.

He regarded me silently through his colorless eyes.

I admit, at his funeral those years ago, I'd never wanted to see him again. Seeing him again, like _this_, was ten times worse. Knowing that he'd kidnapped Katniss and held her from me for years made my hatred for him immeasurable. The loathing was worse than the pain in my leg and in the scrapes of my hands.

After a few minutes, Gale took a step forwards, and when his hand came near me, I flinched away automatically. But he didn't hit me. When I opened my eyes again to look, his hand was still extended down to me. To help me up.

Not saying anything—but keeping a nasty glare in his direction—I spat a mouthful of dirt and blood on his shoes.

Gale narrowed his eyes, but didn't drop his hand. "I suppose 'code of honor' means nothing to you, Mellark? I'm trying to show some respect instead of letting you die on your ass like a coward."

"I'm not the coward here," I said with a hoarse voice, and somehow managed to haul myself upright. Pain whined in my leg, but I paid no attention to it. Grabbing my rifle, which was laying on the ground a few feet from me, was obviously not a choice. He'd shoot me long before I could stand back up.

Seeing me glance at the gun, Gale slanted his brows and then shook his head at me. "I don't shoot unarmed soldiers."

And to prove his point, I watched his fingers open and the fancy Capitol gun he was holding his the ground.

He kicked it away.

I remained steely and on edge, hands curled into fists. "…I still don't trust you."

"And I don't trust you. You stole Katniss."

"_I _stole Katniss?" I took a step forwards, enraged, fear and adrenaline and anger rushing through my veins, making my heart slam against my ribcage. "_I _stole Katniss? I stole her _back_, she never wanted you."

Gale twitched, all calm and collected mannerisms lost. His fingers balled into fists, too, and his face contorted with rage. "You stole her from me. She's mine. You had no right—"

"_This isn't about rights_!" I shouted. "Katniss does not belong to anyone! She makes her own choices—"

"And she'd chosen _me_ before you came along. You didn't know her before like I did." Breath was coming out of his nostrils like I'd imagined a bull's would before charging at a piece of red cloth. "She loved me before you ever came alone."

There was a pause.

I attempted to control my violent feelings, but my fingernails were cutting deep into the flesh of my palms and my teeth were beginning to ach from grinding them together.

After a while, I lifted a hand to wipe something wet from my chin. "_I _wouldn't love someone who kidnapped me and dragged me off t—"

Before I even saw his fist come out, it was slamming against my mouth with a _crack_ and I stumbled back into a tree. Letting out a groan, I just ignored the pain fresh in my jaw and let out a bitter laugh.

"This is a really lame war you've started. Bomb my home and kill people and make the effort to ambush me in the woods…just to punch me in the face." I laughed again, just asking to get hit again. I couldn't help it.

He just kept his eyes narrowed. "…I came to get Katniss back."

"Well, beating up her husband doesn't get you anywhere." I wiped another drip of blood from my chin. "She's safe in District Thirteen. Speaking of which, why haven't you bombed that place yet, if you're so keen on getting to her?"

"I don't _kill _people,"

"That didn't stop you this morning."

Letting out an almost animal-like snarl, Gale launched himself at me and I felt yet another fist on my face.

That time I had the sense to hit back, landing him right in the stomach and hearing the satisfactory groan.

"I'm not a murdered," he hissed, making an attempt to straighten up.

"You're right. Just a sad excuse for a human being." I coughed out more blood. "No wonder Katniss had nightmares for weeks after coming back. She wakes up at night, crying, begging for you to leave her al—"

Gale hit me again.

And again.

Spots danced in front of my vision as my bad leg gave out and we both crashed to the forest floor. Gale was like a rabid dog, snarling and spitting, never letting up. His fist found home in my face, stomach, and chest. I tried feebly to fight back but he was too fast, every time I lifted my hand to fight back he'd smash me into the ground again.

Blood—my own—splattered the ground.

Pain erupted everywhere he struck me.

Between one punch and the next some few minutes later, I managed to get my elbow beneath me and toss him off.

"What is y—" I tried to sound snarky, but it was interrupted with choking on blood that was sneaking in from my lungs. I doubled over, heaving. Everywhere hurt. I was covered in blood. The sun was touching the horizon, sending a quilt of purple and pink across the sky. Though it was dim in the forest, I could still see fairly okay, asides from the spots in my vision and the blood running from a cut on my forehead.

After my airway was somewhat cleared, I paused for a moment before looking up at Gale, who was kneeling a few feet away, head held in his bloody hands. "You know," I said hoarsely, "this really accomplishes nothing. Think about it. It doesn't make her want you anymore."

Gale's head turned towards me. I swear, his eyes were glowing red.

If looks could kill…

"That is none of your business," he said, turning back away.

I saw the rips on his knuckles from hitting me, but felt no sympathy. Just more hatred.

"Of course it's my business." Not aiming to attack, I struggled to sit up, and found a tree to rest my back against. I felt I'd been given a massage with a meat tenderizer. "She's my wife. No matter how much you hate it. I love her, too, you forget. I want the best for her. And no offense intended, _Hawthorn_, I don't think you're the best."

He kept glowering, but I saw his jaw clench and bloody hands curl into fists.

"What would she say to us now…" It was hard, but I managed a bitter laugh, and after coughing for another few minutes, took a steadying breath. "Sitting here, covered in blood. No guns, no nothing." When I tried sitting up a little more, something jabbed my ribs and I let out a groan. "…I do believe you broke a rib or two."

"If you want an apology, you're going to be waiting for a long time," Gale snarled.

Our weapons were still laying a few feet away. Again, I considered trying for mine, but it would be useless.

"So what are you plans?"

He looked over at me, face still as menacing. "You're getting on my nerves, Mellark. Don't think I haven't considered killing you yet."

"I'm serious." I felt of my jaw with a hand and winced. "Are you going to invade District 13? Or just sit here with me? Because something hot to drink sounds really inviting right about now."

"I know what I'm doing."

Shaking my head, I gripped a branch above my head and pulled. Everything in me protested. My knee wailed with agony as it crunched into use, something in my suspected-broken prosthetic leg clanked, my ribs ground against my heaving lungs, every bruise I had on me whimpered.

Up in a standing position, I felt a lot less like taunting Gale.

He stood as well, and repeated, "I know what I'm doing."

As always.

Surprisingly, I didn't feel too worried. I heard the remote yells of other soldiers—maybe District 13's, maybe the Capitol's—and gunfire, but since there were no sounds of bombs, I felt like taking a breath or two and waiting for something to come to me. Because right then I was just about as helpless as I could be, though I wasn't close to admitting that.

The cicadas, which had long since started chirping again, froze. Again. A mockingjay somewhere let out a whistle and I couldn't help but sigh. More Capitol—

Gale cursed, lunging forwards and grabbing his rifle from the ground.

The hovercrafts didn't belong to the Capitol.

And there were a lot of them. We watched as at least a dozen crafts sped off towards District 12, soldiers dropping out of them like stones.

There had to be two sides to a war, after all.

This was my side.

I couldn't help but let out a noise of triumph, still gripping the tree.

New gunfire and shouting filled the air. They didn't expect us.

I managed to turn towards Gale. "Looks like we're even, now."

Voices over Gale's own radio crackled in and out, shouting, wanting orders.

He yanked the device up to his mouth. "I _know_, you all need to st—"

Even though I ached all over, I found the strength to take the last step, pick up my rifle from the ground and slam the butt of it against the back of Gale's head.

He dropped, but not fully unconscious. I didn't have enough strength to kill or drop him cold, but he had a concussion. Laying face-down on the ground, shaking, a low moan slipping continuously from his lips.

"_Now _we're even." Another hovercraft flew over our heads, towards District 12, and I watched it for a second. And when the next appeared, I thought it would do the same, but it didn't.

Gale was just managing to get onto his knees before the craft stopped right above us, opened, and dropped out a single soldier.

Small, a slight frame with an earpiece curling under long black hair, and a look so murderous for a second I was afraid of her more than I had been of the Capitol's president.

"Peeta Mellark, you are in serious trouble," Katniss said, venom lacing every word.

Both Gale and I were shocked into silence.

She didn't even _look_ at him, marching right up to me as the hovercraft she came from disappeared. A piece of paper was clutched in her small hand.

"Ka—" I began, holding up my hands defensively.

Katniss smacked the paper against my chest. "What the hell is this? What were you _thinking_?"

"I th—"

"_WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" _She shouted, smacking my chest again, bristling and fiery, rage emanating from her in waves. "I woke up an hour ago to Forest crying and found _this_. What could I tell him? How could I tell him that his daddy was…I couldn't! You just had to leave us to go and risk your life, you…you _filthy_ _hypocrite_!"

"Katniss, I th—"

She attacked me, wrapping her arms around me so tight I let out a noise of pain and my legs buckled underneath me.

Ten feet in front of us, Gale was forcing himself in a stand position, face twisted with pain and dizziness. He hissed at the sight of us, gripping a branch of a tree so tight it cracked.

Katniss suddenly let go of me and flew at Gale. "I haven't even _started _with _you_, Gale Hawthorn."

"No need," he said through gritted teeth, obviously in more agony than I. "He beat me to it."

"_Shut up,_" she snapped, pushing him against the tree that he was being supported by. "You have no right to even be _alive_, nevertheless…nevertheless…"

Gale looked at her through squinted, tortured eyes.

There was a pause.

"…I hope you feel pretty damn terrible, Gale," Katniss said quietly—but not gently. "You bombed District 12. My home. _Our_ home. You killed people. They had friends, mothers, fathers, children, sisters, brothers. You destroyed ev—"

"I know what I did, Katniss." Gale retorted with an agitated twitch to his voice.

"But _why_?" she yelled, pushing him harder against the tree. "_Why _did you do it? Why did you kill those people, Gale?" She shoved him again.

And again, he cried out in pain, but he was infuriated. "I was trying to get to _you_, Katniss, I didn't mean to kill anyone,"

"Don't give me that bullcrap!" Katniss hit his chest with her small fist, getting right up in his face. "Bombing our home was no accident. You _killed_ p—"

"_I know what I did!_" Gale grabbed her shoulders and shoved her away.

That did it.

Despite my wounds I found myself lurching forwards, and with a hand I grabbed his throat and slammed his head up against the tree trunk with a sharp _crack_. Our faces were just inches apart—his screwed up with agony, mine absolutely livid.

"Never," I said in a low hiss, "Touch. Her. Again."

Gale groaned, his tongue flicking over a drop of blood that had squeezed out onto his lip.

Still prickling with rage, I released his throat to take a step back.

It happened before I could see it, before I could even turn my head back to Katniss.

Gale pulled his rifle up.

I saw the fire in his eyes.

I saw the bayonet plunge into my stomach.

I saw the world spin to a halt as I plummeted to the ground.


	25. Chapter 25

**KATNISS' POV**

My lips formed a silent scream as I watched Peeta fall. There was suddenly no more Gale, no more gunfire, hovercrafts, no more screams in the distance. I dropped to my knees next to him, pulling him up onto my lap.

"_PEETA!" _I wailed. "No, _no_…"

Blood already soaked his front. It ran down his torso and drenched my lap with the sticky, metallic-smelling fluid. I did my best not to retch at the smell, but that was the last thing on my mind.

I cupped Peeta's face in my hands, forcing it to turn to me. "Come on, Peeta, stay awake," I pleaded, a maniac tone rising up into my throat.

His pupils had dilated to just a tiny dot as they wheeled around blindly. Trying to keep him awake, I slapped his cheek and forced him to look at me. Finally, his eyes latched onto mine and his mouth opened, releasing a drip of blood.

"You stay with me, Peeta Mellark," I growled, tears budding in my eyes. "Don't you dare leave me. Do you hear?"

Nothing happened. He just kept staring, mouth twitched as if he was trying to say something.

"I have to…I have to staunch the…the…" I told myself, blinking through the haze of tears, and struggled to twist Peeta's shirt up so I could see the wound.

Dark blood flowed out like a tap left half-on. It had already saturated every inch of his torso, running onto my legs. Letting out a wail like a wounded animal, I tried pressing my hands on the wound but it just squirted around my fingers, splattering across my chest.

I didn't even notice when a District 13 hovercraft froze above us and a dozen uniformed officials leapt out and shackled an unconscious Gale up and dragged him into the cab with them.

Peeta had stopped moving. His eyes stared blankly up into the sky.

"Peeta_…" _I wailed again, quieter, knotting my fists in his wet shirt, closing my eyelids tight against the world.

_No. Stop that. _

I unclenched my fists.

_You have to be stronger than this, Katniss. Don't lose yourself, he _needs_ you. _

I slid Peeta off of my lap and allowed myself one deep breath before wiping my eyes and clenching my jaw.

"There's no way in hell I'm letting you die," I whispered to him in such a severe voice I frightened _myself_.

He said nothing, of course.

Stretching my arms out, I checked for a pulse in Peeta's neck. My fingers slid through the slick liquid coating his body but I found it. Slow and weak, but there.

I was wearing an undershirt, right? Without even pausing, I ripped off my top shirt and after bunching it up in a little ball, pressed it as tight as I could against the gash in his stomach. It went all the way through him, though. Could have punctured a major organ or his spine or—

A tiny, choked sound burbled from the back of my throat but I sucked it back in. Despite my efforts, fear ripped through my veins, and it was hard not losing myself within that thought. _Peeta may die_.

My shirt was dripping wet in a matter of seconds.

"Now's a really good time to get a medic hovercraft over here!" I yelled up in the sky, furious at District 13, furious at the Capitol, furious of _myself_.

A continuous wounded-animal sound was coming from my mouth now. I was trembling like a leaf, but tried to hold the shirt tight anyways.

"You're not dying," I howled, tears flooding down my face as I bent over his motionless form. "You're not dying, you're not leaving me. _Please don't leave me_."

Another hovercraft appeared above us.

I wouldn't let go of Peeta's body.

Someone touched my shoulder.

I shrank away, gripping Peeta even harder. _No, no, no… Please, no…_

"Katniss,"

"_NO_!" I screamed, struggling against the hands that were now trying to pry me off of him "Let _go_ of me! NO! PEETA!"

Arms held me like a vice away from Peeta and I watched through a heavy flow of tears as men dressed in white hauled Peeta up into their craft.

"_Peeta_!" My wails were pitiful, and my effort to break free of the hold was even more pitiful.

In the end, the medic hovercraft disappear in the sky, leaving me on my knees, hunched towards the ground, coated in tears and blood, screaming at the world.

"Just hold together, Katniss, another hovercraft will be here for us soon…" Finnick said next to me. His voice sounded a million miles away, barely penetrated my mind.

I covered my face in my bloody hands, turning away. His arms were the only things keeping me on the ground, whether they were violent and trying to restrain me or gentle and trying to comfort me.

On the ride home I cried myself to sleep.

Nothing else to do.

When we got there, I'd have to face my mother. Face Prim.

Face Forest.

My wonderful son.

What could I tell him?

He deserved more than this, more than me. Today, the Capitol took away from me my everything. My soul. I wasn't complete any more, and Forest deserved something better than a partial mother.

How could this happen? Was I going to leave just like my own mother did so many years ago?

No, I couldn't do that.

I'm stronger than that.

I will go on, if just for Forest.

I will go on in hopes that someday I'll be whole again.

For Forest, if for nobody else.


	26. Epilogue

Wind carried the scent of sage to my house, and with it the laughter of children. From my spot on the seldom-used porch swing, I watched over Forest and Jace as they wrestled together on the front lawn, laughing and growling as dried grass and dirty snow stained their trousers. It had been six-and-a-half months since that day. The bombing, the fight, the war. District 13 authorities agree that it had been one of the shortest but most bloody wars in Panem history. Many lives were lost; District 12 was obliterated into nothing—save, as always, the Victor's Village.

Finnick and Annie spent the majority of their time here in Twelve with us. Though they weren't specific why, exactly, the company was most welcome through such a…traumatic time.

"Mama, come play with us!" Forest called from the yard. He was covered head-to-toe with bits of dead, soggy leaves. The mop of blond hair on his head had grown out past his eyes, but he didn't like when I cut it, so I let him keep it that way.

Smiling a little at him and adjusting my scarf, I called back, "No thank you, love, I can't play rough with you boys, you know that."

"…I know…" He pouted for a second, but then went back to playing with his friend.

On a plastic garden chair in front of me, Ivy lifted her head up from a book and smiling at me. "Don't want to get dirty?"

She knew why, but the little girl was messing with me.

I grinned tiredly back at her, but said nothing.

Just then, the front door opened and Primrose stepped out, carrying a tray of sandwiches and hot chocolate. Normally she'd call us in to eat inside the house, but today was warm.

"Come here and get your lunch, boys," I called to Forest and Jace, and they ran up to the porch.

While the two kids laid on their stomachs on the porch, picking at their food and blowing bubbles in their chocolate, Primrose set the tray on the small table next to the swing and sat next to me.

"How are you holding up, Katniss?" she asked quietly, tucking a bit of her hair behind her ear.

I cast my eyes out over the white-frosted woods next to our house, and after a pause, said, "I'm holding up fine."

"…You miss him, don't you?"

I forced out a laugh. "It hasn't been that long, Primrose. But I always miss him." That was true.

The corners of Prim's mouth twitched upwards, and she looked over my head out near the road, her eyes sparkling slightly. "I'm going to go back inside, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks for the sandwiches."

"Thank you Auntie Primrose," Forest said, handing her back his empty cup, and Jace and Ivy copied his words and handed back their own cups.

Prim glowed. "No problem. Oh, and Katniss, Mother called. She's going to be home in about two hours, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you." I crossed my legs on the swing and curled my arms around the swollen protrusion of my stomach.

Forest stood and walked up to me, wrapped his own arms around one of my knees. "When will Daddy be home, Mama?"

My mouth opened to give a hesitant answer, when Jace interrupted.

The five-year-old tugged on his friend's sleeve. "Fooorrreeesst…" he said in his sweet little District 4 accent. "He's right over there!" Jace pointed to the road.

When all of us lifted our heads and turned to look, there he was. Home early.

As the two boys ran to greet Peeta, I stood and stretched, easily exhausted by the extra weight I was carrying. Peeta looked as healthy as ever, with only a slight limp in his leg and only standing minimal usage of his diaphragm. Fresh snowflakes, which were dancing from the sky, fell and did not melt on his own blond hair as he lifted Forest up in one arm and Jace in his other.

I walked down the steps to Peeta and gave him a kiss. "You're home early."

"I closed the bakery early," he explained, trying to ignore his son tugging on a bit of his hair. "I wanted to come home to you." The sparkling in his eyes and the beautiful smile on his lips was a gift, every day.

I thought I'd lost him. All of the doctors said he wouldn't make it through the night. But he did, and after several blood transfusions and weeks in recovery, he woke up. After that, I hadn't taken for granted a single day with him.

Peeta set down the boys and put both hands on either side of my stomach, tilting his forehead to touch mine. "Are you feeling okay today?"

I laughed. "I'm feeling fine. We still have three months, Peeta."

I must admit, she was an accident. A very good accident, but that night after the bombing I'd thought that since it took so much time to get pregnant with Forest we'd be safe. But once was all it took, I suppose.

She was due at the beginning of February.

After a small pause, I wound my finger in his. "You just missed Prim. She made us lunch. Would you like to come in and eat?"

"I would very much like that." Peeta pressed his lips to my cheek and let Forest and Jace grab his hands—pushing me away, but I was okay with that—and pull him into the house.

Gale's execution had been scheduled to happen in exactly two weeks. The odds were not in his favor; he was charged with several accounts of abduction, manslaughter, and several other charges that had to do with bombing his own hometown. Despite that, when I saw him in District 13 before a massive crowd of victims and victim's families and hostages from the Capitol in June, when Coin ordered for him to be hanged November 24th, I stepped up.

People were furious.

I pleaded against his execution.

Peeta had been angry at me for a week after, but got over it very soon. The others didn't. I still get dirty looks when walking around in town, but that was okay with me. Slowly, people forgave my sparing of Gale.

Though I'd saved him and he managed to avoid a death sentence, after leaving District 13 that day, I refused any more news about him. I didn't know what his new sentencing was about or what happened to the Capitol or anything. I made a conscious effort to block every bit of Gale Hawthorn that ever was from my mind.

Because if I didn't deny his existence, he would certainly come back in the future, and I was not risking my daughter ever being exposed to his venom.

Maybe it was chicken of me to deny everything, but I didn't know what else to do. There was no ignoring the bombing or Peeta's near-death experience or anything about that. My life—all of our lives—had been changed permanently.

Change is a good thing, though, and it seems to have brought us together. We'll keep on surging forwards, through whatever was thrown at us. Getting through the nightmares, the unexplainable mood swings. Repeating it to calm our supposedly-hectic lives. Change was the only certain thing in life.

Go to sleep, have nightmares, wake up, raise our children and watch another sunset as if it was our last. It was all like a game, but after all, there are much worse games to play…


	27. AN

There's really nothing to say.

I had so many thoughts, feelings bottled up inside of me, ready to spill out in a vomit of words, but none of them are coming to me right now.

First, I'd like to thank everyone who's read this story. Trilogy. You mean more than the world to me. You've shaped who I am today, and I owe you guys everything.

It was almost _exactly_ three years ago I started reading The Hunger Games. And June 25th that same year I started writing Lo and Behold in my notebook. Now look how far I've come, how far we all have come.

Some of you have stuck with me since the very beginning, others are relatively new. Some that have stuck with me are still some of my best friends. Not everyone I'd become friends with have stuck with it, but that's okay.

So here's to Rachel, Rosa, Addie, Hannah, Haleigh, Brooke, Nichole, and everyone else who's been with me and gave me the strength to carry it out to the end, even when I felt like quitting.

I'm really in danger of crying right now…

So here's the thing: I don't want to stop writing. I won't. I'm currently writing a second chapter to my oneshot "Invincible," so if you want to keep reading what I write, subscribe to that story and I should have a chapter up some time in the near future. It might be a little graphic at the beginning, and if it bothers ANYONE, please please please don't hesitate telling me. It was something I wrote in a bout of rage at Katniss for being such a bi-atch to Peeta. It was only meant to be a oneshot, so just LET ME KNOW.

Along with some other random things I'm telling you guys, I DO have a youtube channel, that is—of course—thesoggybug. It shouldn't be hard to find, and I have some neat little videos up… Just letting you guys know, because when the movie comes out there is sure to be something about that.

So do you want to know something cool? All of the stories put together makes up over 1300 pages and over 450,000 words. Each Hunger Games book is about 350 pages. I was talking to my sister and she was…well, impressed, and said that TECHNICALLY, I wrote an entire other Hunger Games series. I wrote more than fricking Suzanne Collins.

I'm a little excited.

And to clear up what little confusion that might have formed with the past few chapters, here's the thing. Peeta ALMOST died. Gale got spared because of Katniss, but no one knows exactly what happened to him (I didn't want to drag anything on). Katniss is pregnant with a baby girl. Their lives are somewhat back to normal. And yes, I ended it like the end of Mockingjay because, after all, it was my own version of Mockingjay. ;)

Is that okay? Did that fix things a little?

Not in the slightest for me, but whatever.

I'll live.

Don't know about be happy, but….

So this is the last time I'm ever updating this story. No more Lo and Behold, Gravity or Hourglass. This is **THE END.**


	28. The Water Games

Hey heyy! It's me again! Sorry to disappoint any of you who thought this was another chapter, but **I have a really important message to share and I would like you to ****READ ALL OFIT.**

You all have heard of the "Hunger is Not a Game" thing, right? It's been everywhere.

Now, I'm not here to campaign. I don't support this just to get as many people to join for bragging rights or WHATEVER. I'm here because I know how many readers I have.

I HAVE PEOPLE'S ATTENTION.

I have people who are willing to stand by me, and I want us to put that to a use. **Now please please PLEASE ****read the rest of this****. It's important.**

Who likes to walk out there? Who walks every day? How far?

Here's the deal. You can walk for nothing, or you can walk and give Africa clean water. This isn't a fill-out-a-million-applications-and-get-sponsors kind of deal.

**All you do is type your name into a little box** on this website and it adds to the growing number of walkers and people build a well in Africa. No raising money!

So get your friends, put on your Hunger Games T-shirts, and go WALK. Around the track behind your school, down the road, around your yard.

Please. I HAVE POWER. We all do.** LET'S PUT THIS TO A GOOD USE.**

All you have to do is go to dosomething dot org slash water. /water

We are not just Tributes. We are not just crazed fans who giggle and wear Team Peeta shirts and scream at the mention of the Hunger Games. We have strength in numbers. We are ONE. We all have this in common, and we need to use that as best as we can.

Please.

Let's make a difference.

Thank all of you for listening, and I'm overly touched y the reviews I got for the epilogue. Every one of you deserves so much. You all deserve your own Peetas and your own chance for glory. Go out and get it.

Thanks for listening!

Lots of love from your most faithful author,

TheSoggyBug,

aka: Lana


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